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61 50 Cents 

XoveU's Unternational Series 


For The Defence 

\ 




B. L. FAR JEON 


ATEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place 

Every work in this series is published by arrangement with the author. 


Issued Weekly. Annual Subscription, $15.00. May 4, 1891. 
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11. Buttons. John S. Winter... 30 
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FOR THE DEFENCE 


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25 



FOR THE DEFENCE 




B. L./FARJEON 

AUTHOR OF 

« 

THE MYSTERY OF M. FELIX,” “TOILERS OF BABYLON,” ETC., 


cAuthori^^ed Edition 


NEW YORK 




COPVR/C;^;. 

JAN -g- 1892. 

i ^ ^ 

^a4 


NEW YORK 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

150 WORTH ST., COR. MISSION PLACE 


ETC. 



Copyright, 1891, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY. 


All Rights Reserved. 


FOR THE DEFENCE 


CHAPTER I. 

MRS. TREGARTIN GIVES HER EVIDENCE. 

‘‘ Call Emily Tregartin.” 

The witness, a woman with a pleasant face, of about 
forty-five years of age, decently dressed, stepped into the 
box, and was sworn. 

“ Your name is Emily Tregartin ?” 

Yes, sir, it is.” 

You are a married woman ? ” 

“ I am, sir. My husband is a gardener.” 

Where do you reside ? ” 

“ In Brentingham, at No. 4, Love Lane.” 

Have you any family ? ” 

One little boy, sir. Jimmy.” 

“ How far is your cottage from Brentingham Forest ? ” 

“ About three-quarters of a mile.” 

“ How far from Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ About a mile, perhaps.” 

In the same direction as the forest ? ” 


6 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


No, sir j the other way.” 

Is Brentingham Forest very woody ? 

“Very thick with trees, sir.” 

“ A lonely spot ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, except for picnics.” 

“Are many picnics held there ? 

“ Not many, sir.” 

“ What kind of place is Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ Nothing but rocks and bits of sea. We catch crabs 
there.” 

“ Is the water in parts deep and dangerous ? ” 

“ In a good many parts. It ain’t safe to bathe anywhere 
out of your depth.” 

“ Do you remember the night of the 25th April ? ” 

The witness did not reply immediately, and the question 
was repeated, with the remark, “ You are here in the inter- 
ests of truth, Mrs. Tregartin. Speak frankly.” 

Witness : “ I remember the night well, sir.” 

“ Was it a stormy night ? ” 

“ Very stormy. My husband said it was blowing great 
guns.” 

“ In such weather, according to your experience, would 
Rocky Reaches be especially dangerous ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, it would — all the water in a passion like — 
boiling over the rocks, and spirting up dreadful.” 

“ You know the prisoner ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

(It was observed that at this first direct reference to the 
unfortunate young creature in the dock, the witness gazed 
at her with tender interest and sympathy.) 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


7 


How long have you been acquainted with her ? ” 

“ Since the first week in December.” 

*■' Can you fix the precise date ? ” 

“ No, sir ; it was on a Tuesday.” 

“ It was, then, on the Tuesday in the first week in De- 
cember that you first saw her ? ” 

Yes, sir.” 

“ Having never seen her before ? 

“ Never, sir.” 

And having had no previous knowledge of her ? 

“ No, sir.” 

‘‘ Tell the court what happened on this first visit.’^ 

Do you mean what passed between us, sir ? ” 

Yes.” 

She came to our cottage when there was nobody but 
me at home, and asked if I had a bedroom to let. We had 
a room empty that my husband’s mother used to occupy ; 
she was dead a fortnight when the young lady came 

“ Meaning the prisoner ? ” 

“Yes, sir. And the funeral had put us to a bit of 
expense, besides black clothes for me and my husband and 
Jimmy. So when the young lady asked me if I had a room 
to let I thought of that one, and that it would be a good 
opportunity to turn an honest penny. But I didn’t like to 
let it without my husband’s consent, and I told the young 
lady so. She asked where my husband was, and I said at 
work, and that he would be home about six. Then she 
asked whether she might stop till he came home, and I 
said yes.” 

At what hour of the day did this take place ? ” 


8 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


‘‘About three in the afternoon.” 

“ Go on.” 

‘‘ She sat down quite quiet by the window, and looked 
out, without speaking a word. There was snow in the air, 
and presently it began to fall — not very thick at first, but 
I soon saw we were in for a storm. All this while the young 
lady kept by the window, hardly moving ; I couldn’t see 
her face, though I knew it was sweet and pretty. I caught 
a glimpse of it when she first came to the cottage door.” 

“ Did she wear a veil ? ” 

“Yes, sir; and when she asked aoout the room she 
didn’t lift it, but the wind caught it once, and it was then 
I saw her face. At a little past four Jimmy came home 
from school, and the young lady started up, thinking it 
might be my husband ; but seeing my little boy she sat 
down again by the window. Tea was all ready for him, 
and we were having it together when I thought it was cruel 
of me to let the young lady sit there all alone like, and as 
if she hadn’t a friend in the world. I’m sure she looked 
like it, and I’d been wondering a good deal about her. So 
I went to her and asked her if she wouldn’t take a cup of 
tea. She didn’t answer me, and didn’t as much as look up, 
and I laid my hand on her shoulder and said, ‘ Come, my 
dear lady, you must be faint ; a cup of hot tea will do you 
no harm, and you’re heartily welcome.’ And still she didn’t 
answer me ; but I heard something like a sob, and bend- 
ing down I saw that she was crying. I made no more 
ado, but 1 took her to the bedroom, and took off her hat 
and veil, and bathed her face, and said, ‘ Come along now, 
and make yourself comfortable,’ She thanked me in a low 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


9 


voice that went straight to my heart, it was so like a little 
child speaking. I persuaded her to drink two cups of tea 
but she couldn’t eat j she said she wasn’t hungry, but I 
saw that she couldn’t get the bread-and-butter down, and 
that made me pity her more and more. The snow was 
falling very thick by this time, and after tea she asked me 
whether she might go back to the window, and I said, yes, 
of course she might ; and she went and sat there till it got 
quite dark, never speaking a word all the time. I know 
sorrow when I see it, sir, and I saw it then ; and I know 
goodness when I see it, and I was sure she was good. It 
was clear enough to me that she was in some trouble, and 
I wished I could help her, but I didn’t ask her any questions. 
I let her have her way ; it’s always best. At seven o’clock 
my husband came home, and then the young lady rose and 
looked at him, entreating him like. I didn’t give him time 
to make any remarks. ‘ I want to speak to you,’ I said, 
and I took him and Jimmy out of the room, and told him 
all I knew. He didn’t say anything at first, but turned the 
thing over in his mind — a way he’s got when there’s any- 
thing particular to be decided — and then he said he didn’t 
care to have a stranger with us, and that, though the 
funeral and black clothes had cost us a bit of money, we 
had paid for them, and didn’t owe anybody a farthing. 
That was true, and I couldn’t dispute it. My husband’s a 
good chap, but he’s got a will of his own, and if you want 
him to stick to anything all you’ve got to do is to contra- 
dict him. I took care not to, though my heart was bleed- 
ing for the poor young lady. Out he went to her, and told 
her he wa^ sorry, but we didn’t have a room to spare. She 


lO 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


listened quite humbly, and said, without a murmur, * Thank 
you ; then I must go away.’ He had brought her hat and 
mantle from the bedroom, and she put them on. Then 
she took out her purse, and put a shilling on the table. 
‘ What’s that for ? ’ asked my man. ‘ For the tea,’ answered 
the young lady, ‘ your good wife was kind enough to give 
me.’ ‘ Lord ! ’ I said, with a lump in my throat, ‘ she didn’t 
take a bite.’ ‘You’re welcome to a cup of tea,’ said my 
husband, putting the shilling back in her hand ; ‘ we can’t 
take money for that.’ She went to the door and opened 
it j and the snow came driving in. She fell back just as if 
she’d received a blow, but she straightened herself directly, 
and saying very sweetly, ‘Good-night,’ was going out when 
my husband caught her by the arm. ‘ Are you going to 
your friends?’ he asked. ‘ I haven’t any/ she answered. 

‘ Where are you off to, then ? ’ he asked. ‘ I don’t know,’ 
she answered. I couldn’t speak ; my tears were choking 
me. ‘ Do you mean to tell me you’ve no place to go to ? ’ 
asked my husband. ‘ None,’ she said. ‘ Nor any place to 
sleep in ? ’ ‘ None. It’s the first time I’ve been in this 
part of the country.’ My man stared at this, as well he 
might. ‘ Where do you come from ? ’ he asked. ‘ A long, 
long way from here,’ she answered, oh, so wearily ! ‘ Fifty 

miles ? ’ ‘ More than that.’ ‘A hundred ? ’ ‘ Yes, I think 
so. Please,’ she said, raising her face to him, but I’m sure 
she couldn’t see his for the tears in her eyes, ‘ don’t ask 
me any more questions. I’m tired and weak ; let me go.’ 
‘No, I’m hanged if ybu shall,’ said my man. ‘You can 
stop here to-night, and we’ll talk about it to-morrow. I 
wouldn’t turn a cat out on such a night.’ Upon that the 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


I 


young lady broke down, and began to cry so that my 
husband went away, saying, ‘ Mother, look after the child,’ 
and I took her in my arms, and did what I could to com- 
fort her. She was so young, sir, and seemed so lonely ! ” 

The judge : “ Take a little time, Mrs. Tregartin. It is 
nothing to your discredit that you should be agitated.” 

After a pause of a few minutes, during which all eyes 
but those of the judge and the counsel for the prosecution 
and the defence were fixed upon the prisoner — who, from 
the moment she was brought into the court, had not raised 
her head — the examination of the witness was resumed : 

“ The prisoner remained with y6u that night ? ” 

“Yes, sir ; and the next morning she was so ill that I 
saw it would be dangerous for her to get up. So I made 
her keep her bed, and asked her if I should send for the 
doctor. She was so frightened at the idea of seeing a 
stranger that I did not insist upon it, but nursed her myself, 
and in a few days she was well enough to get about the 
house.” 

“ And then ? ” 

“ My husband consented to let her remain with us, and 
she agreed to pay twelve shillings a week for board and 
lodging.” 

“ She lived with you till she was arrested ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Sleeping in your cottage every night ? ” 

“ Every night, with one exception.” 

“ We will come to that in due time. Did she seem to 
have plenty of money ? ” 

“ I don’t know about that, sir. She paid regularly, always 
two weeks in advance.” 


12 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ Now, for the first month she was with you, did you 
have any suspicion of her condition ? ” 

“ I may have had, but I didn’t say anything to her or 
anybody. After all, I thought, I might be mistaken. We 
got very fond of her, sir.” 

I will not press the question. How did she occupy 
her time during that month ? ” 

Sometimes she read, sometimes she wrote.” 

“ Letters ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ To whom ? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir.” 

“ Who posted those letters ? ” 

The young lady herself.” 

“ Did she never give you any to post for her ? ” 

Never.” 

“ Do you know to whom they were addressed ? 

No, sir.” 

“ Then you cannot say whether they were addressed to 
more than one person ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ When she wrote her letters were you at any time pre- 
sent ? ” 

“ Never.” 

“ She wrote them in her own room ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“^Taking care that she was alone ? ” 

“ It does seem like it, sir.” 

‘‘ .You understand that we are now confining ourselves 
to the first month of her living with you ? ” 

Yes, sir.” 


POR THE DEFEMCE, 


13 


“ We will get beyond that time presently. During the 
period of which we are speaking did any letters for the 
prisoner arrive at your house ? ” 

“ None, sir.” 

“ Not one ? ” • 

“ Not one.” 

“ Did she receive any addressed to her elsewhere — at 
the village post-office, for instance ? ” 

“ I don’t know for certain. I oughtn’t to say anything 
I’m not sure of.” 

“ Quite right. I may take it, then, that you have no 
positive knowledge of her receiving any letters addressed 
to her elsewhere ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know anything about it for certain.” 

“ All through that month did she do nothing but read 
and write letters ? ” 

“ O, yes, sir ; she did some work.” 

Needlework ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ For herself? ” 

“ And for me, as well. She would come down and say, 
‘ Mrs. Tregartin, give me something to do, please ; ’ and if 
there was any mending to do she’d insist upon doing it for 
me. She made me some aprons, and kept Jimmy’s clothes 
in nice order, and my husband’s, too. Sometimes she’d 
ask me to let her help me in the cooking, and I couldn’t 
refuse her, though she wasn’t much of a cook.” 

“ Did it appear to you that she was a person accustomed 
to houshold work ? ” 

“Not at all, sir. She is a lady born and bred, and 
educated as such. We’ve got four pictures she painted for 


14 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


us hanging in the room. They’re beautiful, and my hus- 
band thinks all the world of them.” 

“ Where did she obtain the painting materials ? ” 

“ She ordered them in the village, and they sent for them 
for her.” 

What are the subjects of the paintings ? ” 

“ There are two pictures of Brentingham Forest, and 
two of Rocky Reaches. I never saw anything like them. 
You’d think you were in the places themselves.” 

Did she do anything else for you ? ” 

“ She taught Jimmy of an evening, and he got along 
better with her than he did at school.” 

“ Where did she keep her needlework and other things 
belonging to her ? ” 

“ In a box she bought in the village. She brought 
nothing with her when she came to us, and she had to buy 
everything she wanted.” 

“ She kept her box locked ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ When did she tell you her name was Mary Lee ? ” 

“ On the day she agreed to pay twelve shillings a-week 
for her board and lodging.” 

Did you give her a receipt for the money ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir.” 

“ Did she inform you, of her own accord, that her name 
was Mary Lee ? ” 

It came out in this way, sir. When I wrote out the 
first receipt I wanted to put her name in, and I asked what 
it was.” 

“ Did she reply immediately, or did she seem to hesitate 
before she answered ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


15 


“ Well, sir, she seemed to hesitate a little.” 

“ At the time did you think this rather strange ? ” 

“ I didn’t think much about it, sir.” 

“ Did any person call to see her at your house ? Keep 
within the limit of the month ? ” 

“ No one, sir, all that time.” 

“ She was an entire stranger in the village, and quite 
alone ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Did it not strike you as singular that a lady so well 
bred should voluntarily choose to live in a part of the 
country where she was so entirely friendless and unknown ? ” 
“ It did, at times, sir, and I don’t mind saying I was 
curious about her. But I said to myself, she has gone 
through some great trouble, and I won’t make it worse by 
being inquisitive ; perhaps one day she will open her heart 
to me. Nobody can call me a busybody, sir.” 

“ All the better for you. You saw she had gone through 
some great trouble ? ” 

That was what I thought.” 

“ Was she at any time light-hearted or cheerful ? ” 
Neither one nor t’other, sir. She was always very, 
very quiet, and I scarcely ever saw her smile.” 

“ The paintings she made for you of views in Brenting- 
ham Forest and of Rocky Reaches — were they done in 
your house ? ” 

“ Oh, no, sir. She went to the places themselves, and 
painted them there.” 

“ Did she go to those places frequently ? ” 

“ Many and many a day she’d spend hours and hours 
there.” 


i6 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ Did any one accompany her ? ” 

“No one, sir. Jimmy was at school, my husband was 
at work, and I had enough to do in the house.” 

“ She went alone ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. Only once, at the end of the month weVe 
been speaking of ” 

“ Don’t stop. We will proceed now with what occurred 
after that time. Once at the end of the month — what 
happened then ? ” 

“ She had been out all day, and when Jimmy came home 
I sent him to look for her. He was gone a long time, and 
it was six o’clock before they came back together.” 

“ Did you notice anything unusual in her appearance ? ” 
“ She was white as a ghost, and trembling like a leaf.” 

“ Anything else ? ” 

“ Her clothes were quite wet.” 

“ Where did your son say he found her ? ” 

“ At Rocky Reaches.” 

“ Did she account for her condition ? ” 

“ She said she had fallen into the water.” 

“ Did you believe she spoke the truth ? ” 

“ I don’t know how to answer you, sir. I was distressed 
about her, and when I’d put her to bed I said : ‘ My dear, 
I wish you’d let me write to your friends to come to you.’ ” 
“ What was her reply ? ” 

“ She cried, ‘ No, no ! For God’s sake, no ! ’” 

“ When you heard that, you knew she was suffering ? ” 
“ I knew it all the time, poor soul ! ” 

“ But her words then particularly impressed you ? ” 

“ Yes, they did.” 


l^OR THE DEFENCE. 


i1 

“ Was she ill after that ? ’’ 

“Very ill, sir. She didn’t leave her bed foi three or 
four weeks.” 

“ What was her ailment ?” 

“ She had brain fever.” 

“ You called a doctor in ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. Dr. Martin.” 

“ Did he declare her to be in danger ? ” 

“ He said there was danger, and that if sne got worse 
her friends ought to be communicated with.” 

“ Was that remark made in the prisoner’s room while 
she was in bed ? ” 

“ It was, sir.” 

“ Did she hear it ? ” 

“ I can’t say, sir. She was lying with her eyes closed.” 

“ Was she awake at the time?” 

“ I can’t tell you that for certain either, sir.” 

“ From what transpired after the doctor’s departure did 
you think it probable that the prisoner roust have been 
sensible while the doctor was speaking, and that she under- 
stood what he said ? ” 

“ It almost looked like it, sir.” 

“ Describe what made it look like it ? ” 

“ Thinking the young lady was asleep I left the room to 
get my husband’s tea ready, and I was downstairs for an 
hour and more. When I went upstairs again I noticed 
that some papers had been burnt while I was away ; the 
ashes were in the grate, and no one else could have done 
it but the poor lady who was lying almost at death’s door.” 

“ The presumption is that, during your absence, she 

2 


i8 FOR THE DEFENCE. 

destroyed all written^evidence in her possession which 
would have led to her friends being sent for ? ” 

“ I thought so, sir.” 

“ One question respecting her visits to Brentingham 
Forest and Rocky Reaches, and especially to her visit to 
the latter place on the day in question. Were you aware 
that she was in the habit of meeting any person there ? ” 

“ I was not, sir.” 

It might have been ? ” 

“ Certainly it might have been.” 

‘‘ Now, during the period that Doctor Martin was at- 
tending the prisoner in this illness did he make a particular 
communication to you ? ” 

“ He did, sir.” 

“ He asked you first an important question ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

What was it ? ” 

“ Whether the poor lady was married. I said I did not 
know.” 

“ And afterwards he made the communication to you .? ” 
“Yes, sir.” 

What did you say to him ? ” 

“ I begged him not to mention it to any one else, and 
he promised he wouldn’t^unless it was necessary.” 

“ Did you yourself mention it to any person ? ” 

“ Not while the poor lady was ill.” 

“ Not even to your husband ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

You waited till the prisoner got well ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


19 


And then ? ” 

“ I told her, as gently as I could, what the doctor said.” 

How did she receive the disclosure? ” 

“ She burst inta tears, and begged me to keep her secret. 
I said it was a secret that could not be kept very long. 
‘ Promise me,’ she begged, ‘ that you will say nothing to 
anybody for a week.’ I promised her at once, and she 
thanked me again and again, and kept kissing my hand. It 
made me ashamed. She went about the house, after that, 
quieter than ever, and with a face so full of grief that it 
almost broke my heart to look at her. Hers was ; she told 
me so. ‘ Cheer up, my dear,’ I said to her; ‘you’ll get 
over your trouble, and everything will come right. There 
are happy days in store for you yet. ‘ Never, never, never ! ’ 
she sobbed. ‘ There is no happiness in this world for me. 
My heart is broken ! ’ ” 

These pathetic words, spoken with intense feeling by a 
witness whose sympathies were so entirely with the unfor- 
tunate prisoner against whom she was probably giving 
fatal evidence, deeply affected every person who heard 
them. Especially was this noticeable in the counsel for 
the defence, whose agitation was visible to all. 

It being now five o’clock, the court adjourned. 


20 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER IL 

THE FRIENDS. 

At half-past seven on the same evening Mr. Moles worth, 
counsel for the defence, was sitting at a table in a private 
room in the Waverley Arms, with a mass of papers before 
him which he had been poring over for the last hour. He 
had hurried from the court to the hotel, and having par- 
taken of dinner, which he ate sparingly and with the air of 
a man who had more important matters to occupy his 
attention than eating and drinking, had retired to his 
private room for the purpose of devoting his attention to 
the case upon which he was engaged. The documents 
consisted of letters, telegrams, and memoranda jotted 
down, apparently at odd times, on any chance scraps of 
paper that were available at the moment they suggested 
themselves. After awhile Mr. Molesworth pushed the 
papers aside, leaving exposed the photograph of a young 
girl upon which he gazed so earnestly as to betoken that 
he was stirred by a deeper feeling than the mere relation 
between counsel and client could ordinarily arouse. 

The photograph was that of the prisoner he was defend- 
ing, who was on her trial for the murder of her infant child 
by wilful drowning in Rocky Reaches. 

A beautiful face, childlike, radiant, and distinguished by 
a simplicity so sweet and attractive that it seemed in- 
credible that the original, under any possible circumstances. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


21 


could have been guilty of a crime so horrible. But in the 
mind of every person who was at all conversant with the 
particulars of the case, and whose judgment was not 
warped by sympathy and pity for the fair young creature, 
there existed no doubt as to the issue of the trial. She 
was guilty. Although the verdict was not yet pronounced, 
the beautiful girl was already condemned. 

Mr. Molesworth’s absorbed and earnest gaze conjured 
up pictures of the pasl: which agitated him so powerfully 
that he set his teeth and clenched and unclenched his 
hands in agony. Suddenly he rose to his feet, wresting 
his passion from the grooves into which it was leading him. 
It was the effort of a strong nature asserting itself and 
recalling him to the stern and apparently hopeless task he 
had voluntarily undertaken. 

“ This will never do,” he muttered ; “ it will unman me.” 

He glanced at the clock ; the hands pointed to ten 
minutes to eight. 

In ten minutes he will be here,” he said. “ In ten 
minutes, in ten minutes.” 

He had taken a telegram from the table, which he read 
while he spoke. It ran : 

** At eight o’clock I will he with you. Andrew.” 

The words had scarcely passed his lips when he heard 
the sound of steps in the passage. Throwing open the 
door he saw two men, one a waiter employed in the hotel, 
the other a visitor who was being shown to his room. 

Dismissing the waiter, Mr. Molesworth pulled his visitor 
into the room, and, closing the door, looked anxiously into 


22 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


his face, endeavoring to read there whether the news he 
was about to hear was good or bad. 

“ I am here before my time, you see,” said Andrew 
Denver, clasping his friend’s hand. 

“ I see, I see,” said Mr. Molesworth, impatiently. Well, 
Andrew ? ” 

“ There is no positive news, but before this time to-mor- 
row night I hope to make a more satisfactory report. The 
men I have employed are on his track, and are confident 
that some time to-morrow they, will run him down.” 

Mr. Molesworth’ put his hand to his forehead, and walked 
feverishly about the room, muttering, “ Some time to-mor- 
row — some time to-morrow ! When life and death hang 
upon every moment ! ” 

“You must be patient, Dick.” 

“ I will, I will, as patient as I can be. I know you are 
doing everything that is possible to be done, but I am torn 
to pieces with grief and indignation. It is as much as I 
can do to control myself in court, to prevent myself start- 
ing up and crying, ‘ Can you not see that you are acting 
the part of executioners ? Look into the eyes of this suf- 
fering angel, and tell me whether there is anything depicted 
there but innocence and despair ? She is innocent ; she 
is innocent ! End this cruel farce, and proclaim her so.’ ” 

“ But you restrain yourself, Dick,” said Mr. Denver, in 
an affectionate tone. “ It is only to me, or when you are 
alone, that you give way.” 

“It is true. Outwardly I am calm ; inwardly there 
burns a consuming fire.” 

“ How has the trial gone? As I came here I heard the 
woman she lodged with is still under examination.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


23 


“ The prosecution is not half through with her. She is 
giving fatal evidence, and all the time she is answering the 
questions put to her, her heart goes out to the poor victim. 
My poor Madge, my poor Madge ! Mrs. Tregartin is an 
honest woman, and would not hesitate to make her evi- 
dence favorable, if she saw a way. Everyone in the court 
perceives it, and it adds a crushing strength to what she 
says. The net is closing round my darling, and though I 
weigh every word that is uttered I cannot hope to shake 
the evidence.” 

“ What do the lawyers say ? ” 

‘‘What can they say? They pity and condemn her. 
They avoid my looks ; they cannot offer me a suggestion.” 

“ Look here, Dick. If it should happen that my men 
lost the scent for a few hours, and cannot report satisfac- 
torily to-morrow, you must do everything in your power 
to prolong the trial.” 

“ It shall be done. They know I am fighting a losing 
battle, and they will grant me indulgence. But you tor- 
ture me ! Is there any fear of their failing ? ” 

“ I think not, but I wish to provide for contingencies. 
Have you had an interview with her since I left? ” 

“ If it can be called an interview. I was with her last 
evening, and entreated her to give me some information 
which might assist me in my defence. She would not 
speak. I begged, I implored, I recalled old times, and 
still she would not speak. She was dumb with despair and 
shame. At length something I said unloosed her tongue. 

‘ You are increasing my sufferings,’ she sobbed — poor 
child ! as if I would not shed my heart’s blood to save her 


24 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


one pang ! — ‘ You are increasing my sufferings,’ she sobbed. 

Leave me to my misery. I am not worthy of your 
goodness. There is but one refuge for me — death ! Day 
and night I pray for it.’ She repeated these words again 
and again. Then she begged me to forgive her, and went 

down on her knees to me, sobbing, sobbing, sobbing I 

must not think of it ! I must be cold, cold as the inhuman 
monster who has brought her to this pass. As there is g, 
God in heaven he shall not go unpunished ! ” 

I am with you, Dick. If not at your hands, at mine.” 

These two men were friends in the true sense of the 
word. The professions of friendship exchanged at college 
were not the mere outcome of the exuberance of young 
life ; there was a depth and sincerity in them which years 
of after association had proved. Richard Molesworth and 
Andrew Denver were both men of moderate fortune, and 
it was perhaps due to this circumstance that neither had 
made his mark, although one was thirty and the other 
thirty-one years of age. There is no incentive like neces- 
sity, and these friends had not felt the pricking of this 
salutary spur. Andrew Denver dabbled in literature, 
R.ichard Molesworth had never held an important brief. 
They had laughingly reproached each other for their lack 
of industry, and pledged themselves to great effort, and 
then had fallen back into their state of happy indolence. 
And yet there were sleeping forces within them which, 
forced into play by that same spur of necessity which has 
made so many men famous, were capable of grand results. 

They sat together till ten o’clock, Andrew Denver 
recounting all he and his agents had done, and then he 


, FOR THE DEFENCE, 


took his departure, having to catch a late train in the 
prosecution of the mission he had undertaken on behalf 
of his friend. 

“ Depend upon me, Dick,” he said, “ and keep cool. I 
will leave no stone unturned.” 


26 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER III. 

MRS. TREGARTIN CONTINUES HER EVIDENCE. 

“ We left off, Mrs. Tregartin, after your promise to the 
prisoner that you would keep her secret for a week. Did 
you keep that promise ? ” 
did, sir.” 

“ You did not reveal it even to your husband? 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Did he not speak to you ? Did he have no suspicion ? ” 

“ No, sir. In some ways men are as blind as new-born 
kittens.” 

“ At the end of the week what occurred ? ” 

The young lady told me she was going away. 
‘Where?’ I asked. She answered me just as she answered 
my husband the first day she came to us. She didn’t know 
where. She could never repay us, she said, for the kind- 
ness we had shown her — I wouldn’t mention it, sir, but if 
I keep anything back you seem to screw it out of me, if 
you will forgive me for saying so.” 

“ I have no intention to be hard on you, Mrs. Tregartin. 
We are assembled here in the execution of a solemn and 
painful duty, and, at all hazards, that duty must be per- 
formed. Proceed, if you please, with what passed during 
this interview.” 

“ I told her not to say anything about kindness, that she 
had paid us well for what we had done for her, and that, if 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


27 


we could afford it, we wouldn’t take a penny of her money, 
but would keep her with us out of friendship, we had got 
so fond of her. She insisted that she would go, and I had 
to clap my back against the door, or she’d have done it. 
Seeing me so determined, she gave way, and went to her 
room, and took off her things. Everything passed off as 
usual the rest of the day, though I was worried in my mind 
as to what I should do about telling my husband. It didn’t 
seem right to keep it from him, and when he found it out, 
as find it out he must, he’d be sure to give me a good talk- 
ing to ; and serve me right. But we all went to bed that 
night without my saying anything, and nothing happened 
to disturb me — which maybe was because we sleep like 
tops. I got up early next morning, as I always do, and 
when my husband was having his breakfast I took the 
young lady a cup of tea, as I’d been in the habit of doing 
lately. I went into her room, and it was empty. The 
young lady was gone. She had left the house in the night 
without our hearing her. I looked about the room a bit, 
thinking perhaps she’d left a letter for me, but I didn’t see 
any. Then I ran down to my husband but he was off to 
his work, and there was only Jimmy and me in the house. 
I thought I wouldn’t make a fuss, but would just try to find 
her quietly, and bring her back, so that nobody but me 
and her should be any the wiser.” 

“ Had her bed been slept in ? ” 

“No, sir. She hadn’t even laid down on it, which made 
me think she must have gone away early in the night. I 
sent Jimmy to school, and went out to search for the young 
lady. I asked in the village, but nobody had seen her, 


28 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


and at the railway station, a fair three mile from our house, 
the clerk didn’t remember selling a ticket to any young 
lady like the one I described. Then I went to Brenting- 
ham. Forest, and searched a good hour there, but there was 
no sign of her, and I went home in the afternoon, after a 
tiring day, more worried than I can say. My husband saw 
the worry in my face when he came in from his work, and 
he asked me about it. I made a clean breast of it, and 
told him everything. He thought a little, and though he 
doesn’t show his feelings as I do, I saw that he was almost 
as worried as I was. At last he said, ‘ Mother, you know 
I don’t hold with such things, and if we had a house full 
of children I’d like ’em to be all boys. But this isn’t an 
ordinary case ; there’s some mystery about it that I can’t 
get to the bottom of. Besides, she’s got hold of me in a 
way I can’t account for. . She’s run away to hide her shame, 
poor lass ! Some harm ’ll come to her, and it sha’n’t be 
laid at our door. I’ll go and seek her, and if I find her I’ll 
bring her back with me if I have to carry her, and we’ll 
see her through her trouble. As for the something 
scoundrel who’s brought her to this, I’d give half a week’s 
wages to have just three rounds with him.’ It isn’t often 
my man speaks like that, and when he does it’s a sign 
that he’s thoroughly roused. He swallows a cup of tea 
quick, and with some bread and butter in his hand to eat 
on the way, out he goes to look for the poor young lady. 
It’s ten o’clock before he comes home, and when I open 
the door for him there she is in his arms, without sense or 
motion in her. ‘ No time for questions, mother,’ he says. 
‘ I’ll carry her up to her room, and you’ll attend to her. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


29 


If you want a doctor I’ll go and fetch one.’ ‘ Make a pot 
of tea,’ I say. ‘ The kettle’s on the boil.’ When he’s gone 
I undress the poor child and put her to bed, and by that 
time she recovers herself just enough to say a few words 
in a low voice. I don’t let her speak much, but I let her 
understand, once and for all, that we’re her friends, my 
husband and me, and that we mean to keep her with us. 

* Does he know ? ’ she whispers. ‘ He does, my dear,’ I 
say. ‘ And doesn’t hate me ? ’ she whispers. ‘ Doesn’t 
drive me from his house ? ’ ‘ The proof of the pudding’s in 
the^ eating, my dear,’ I say. ‘ Knowing everything as far 
as you’ve told us he goes out to find you and bring you 
home, and here you’ll remain till you find a happier.’ While 
she’s crying quietly to herself my man calls out, ‘ Mother, 
here’s the tea,’ and I go to the door and take it from him. 
‘ Is she all right ? ’ he asks. ‘ I think she will be,’ I answer ; 

* she won’t want a doctor.’ I look up into his face, and he 
looks down into mine, and he pats me on the shoulder, 
and goes downstairs. ‘ I should have died but for him,’ 
the young lady says. ‘ He’s a man staunch and true,’ I say. 
‘ All the world isn’t bad, my dear. Don’t mistrust us again. 
Don’t run away from us again.’ ‘ I won’t,’ she says. ‘That’s a 
sacred promise,’ I say, ‘ and you’ll keep it, I’m sure.’ I 
remain with her till she falls asleep, and then I go down to 
my husband, burning to hear what he’s got to tell. He’d 
been over the same ground as I had, asking in the village for 
news of the young lady, and going to Brentingham Forest, 
without getting any satisfaction. Then he thought of Rocky 
Reaches, and went there. It was quite dark, and the tide 
was coming in, washing over the rocks in a nasty way. 


30 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


There was no moon or stars, and he could hardly see. All 
at once he stumbled over something, and looking down 
saw the young lady lying insensible in a dangerous part of 
the Reaches. It’s my belief that she was right in what she 
said, and that she would have died if he hadn’t come across 
her. She was quite unconscious, and he couldn’t get a 
word out of her. He didn’t waste a minute, but took her 
up in his arms, and carried her home. He knew she was 
alive because she moaned and sighed now and again. 
That was all he had to tell me.” 

“ Was the prisoner ill for any length of time after that ? ” 
“ I made her keep her bed for a few days, and when 
she got up she didn’t seem* much the worse for it. That 
was perhaps because she was easier in her mind about my 
husband.” 

What account did she give of her proceedings ? ” 

“She said she was frightened that she would bring 
trouble between me and my husband when he came to 
know all- about her, and that that was the reason of her 
going away secretly.” 

“ Do you think she was in her right mind ? ” 

“ She talked very sensibly, sir, although what she suffered 
was enough to craze one.” 

“ Or that she intended to commit suicide ? ” 

“ No, sir, not that. It’s my belief she went away entirely 
for my sake, and without any idea what would be the end 
of it.” 

“ Rocky Reaches, which you describe as a very danger- 
ous place, seems to have had a kind of fascination for the 
prisoner ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“I think so, too, sir. She said to me once that there 
were voices in the sea.” 

“ This brings us to the month of February. Did she 
continue to pay you regularly ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Receiving money from no one ? ” 

“ Not that I know of, sir.” 

“ She did not ask you to go to the village to cash any 
cheques or post office orders for her ? ” 

No, sir.” 

“ But you went to the village on certain errands for 
her?” 

“ Yes, sir. From the time she heard that we’d been 
asking through the village for her on the day she was miss- 
ing she never went there again. I think she was afraid 
that the people would look at her and say unkind things.” 
“ What purchases did you make for her ? ” 

Linen and stuff to make baby clothes.” 

“She had made some articles of that kind before she 
ran away from your house ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ That was the work you mentioned that she was doing 
for herself, and kept locked in her box ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

After her illness did she continue to write letters ? ” 
“Not so many as she used to.” 

“ To your knowledge, how many ? ” 

“ Three.” 

“ As she did not go again to the village, who posted them 
for her ? ” 

“ Jimmy.” 


32 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


Can your son write ? ” 

“ He’s only just commencing his pothooks and hangers, 
sir.” 

“ Therefore he cannot read writing ? ” 

‘‘No, sir.” 

“ That was why she gave your son her letters to post 
instead of you ? ” 

“Perhaps, sir.” 

“ Because she was unwilling that you should ascertain 
the names and addresses of the personsshe was writing to ? ” 
“Perhaps, sir.” 

“Until the prisoner’s child was born you had no further 
trouble with her ? ” 

“ None, sir.” 

“ What was the date of the birth ? ” 

“ The 15th of March.” 

“ It was a girl ? 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Was the birth registered ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Why was this neglected ? ” 

“ The poor mother couldn’t make up her mind about it.” 
“ You had some argument with her on the subject ? ” 

“ I don’t know whether you can call it argument. We 
spoke together on the subject.” 

“ Who was the first to speak, you or the prisoner ? ” 

“ I was, sir.” 

“ Relate what took place.” 

“ I said to her, ‘ My dear, the baby must be registered.’ 
She asked why it must, and I said it was the law.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


33 


When did this first conversation take place ? ” 

“ I can’t exactly remember. Baby was three weeks old, 
I think.” 

“ What -was the child called by you and the mother ? ” 

“ Pet.” 

Proceed with the conversations concerning the re- 
gistration.” 

“ I think it was a week afterwards that I spoke to her 
again. ‘ Have you thought about the* registration ? ’ I 
asked, and she said no, she hadn't. ‘ But it is really ne- 
cessary,’ I said ; ‘ Pet must have a proper name, and she 
must be registered before she is six weeks old.’ I spoke 
very seriously, and she seemed alarmed, and asked me if 
there would be any trouble if it was not done. I answered 
I was afraid there would be, and that it would be a foolish 
thing not to obey the law. She asked me then to explain 
to her all about registration, and I told her that she would 
have to fill up a paper, and say on what day the baby was 
born, and the baby’s name, and the names of the father 
and the mother. She was greatly distressed at this, and she 
got up and walked about the room, and looked around as 
if she wanted to fly from me and everybody. I tried to 
quiet her, and said there was no hurry for a day or two, as 
she could wait till baby was six weeks old before she filled 
up the registration paper.” 

“ The child being born on the 15th of March, the six 
weeks would expire on the 26th of April, the day after she 
was drowned ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir.” 


3 


34 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


‘‘ What occurred, within your knowledge, between the 
15th of March and the 25th of April, which had direct of 
indirect bearing upon this question of registration ? ” 

“I wish you’d put it plainer, sir.” 

“ I will endeavor to do so. After you had explained 
the matter to her the prisoner’s manner altered ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. She was even more unhappy than she had 
been before.” 

She was fond of the child ? ” 

“ She worshipped her, sir.” 

» Go on.” 

“ I said to her that same evening, ^ My dear, I hope 
you won’t be offended if I ask you a question ? ’ She 
said she couldn’t be offended at anything I could say, 
and I asked her then if the father was alive. She turned 
her face away from me — it got scarlet when I put the 
question — and said, almost in a whisper, that he was. 

‘ Then, my dear,’ I said, ‘ if I was in your place I would 
write to him at once.’ That was all that passed, and the 
next day she wrote a letter, and sent it to the post-office 
by Jimmy. Three or four days after this it was that I had 
to go on some errands, and I left only the young lady and 
Pet in the house. As I was crossing a field, taking a short 
cut to a house I was going to, I noticed a man, a stranger 
in the village, who was walking along, looking this way and 
that, as men do when they are not sure of their where- 
abouts. I didn’t take particular notice of him, but things 
fix themselves in your mind sometimes without your know- 
ing. I finished my errands, and walked home through the 
village, and stopped to have a chat with a neighbor. Then 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


35 


I heard that a man had been asking the way to my house, 
and I thought it might be the man I met in the field. I 
described him, and the woman I was talking to said yes, 
that was the man. I wondered what a stranger could want 
with me, and I hurried back home. At a little distance 
from the house I saw the young lady at the door, with baby 
in her arms, talking to the very man. He was the first to 
see me, and saying something I wasn’t near enough to hear, 
he walked away in the opposite direction. That showed 
he hadn't come to see me, but I asked the young lady the 
question, and she answered that the stranger had come to 
see her. I was glad to hear it, for it seemed to show that 
her friends had found her out at last, which I thought was 
the best thing that could happen to her. It hasn’t proved 
so.” 

‘‘ Why do you make that remark ? ” 

“ Hasn’t it led to this, sir ? 

“ I do not know. What causes you to think that there 
is any connection between the visit of this stranger to the 
prisoner and the case we are now trying ? ” 

“ I’m sure I can’t tell you, sir. It’s in my mind, that’s 
all I can say.” 

Did the prisoner acquaint you with the object of his 
visit ? ” 

No, sir.” 

“ Did she inform you who he was ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ And you did not inquire ? ” 

“ I did not, sir. I saw all along that the young lady had 
secrets she wished to keep to herself, and I wasn’t going 
to torment her by prying into them.” 


36 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“Going back a moment to the advice you gave the 
prisoner to write to the father of the child, did you mean 
that she should write to him with respect to the register- 
ing, and as to his name being put on the registration 
paper ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; and the child’s name as well.” 

“ The presumption, however, is that some of her pre- 
viously written letters were addressed to the father ? ” 

“ One would think so, sir.” 

“ And yet you are certain that she received no answers 
to those letters.” 

“ I am not certain, sir. I can only say that she received 
none that I know of.” 

While the last two or three questions were being put 
and answered, a telegram was’ brought into court, and 
handed to the counsel for the defence. He opened and 
read it : 

“ I shall have strange news for you this evening. Can 
say nothing about it at present, as nothing absolutely de- 
finite is discovered, but it may lead to something. Make 
every effort to prolong the trial. — Andrew.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


37 


CHAPTER IV. 

WHAT OCCURRED ON THE 25TH OF APRIL. 

“ Now, with respect to the stranger with whom she was 
conversing. Would you say he was a gentleman ? ” 

“ No, sir, I should say not.” 

“ A laborer ? ” 

Nor that either, sir. He was like a common man, 
more from the town than the country.” 

Did the prisoner appear to 'be on friendly terms with 
him ? ” 

‘‘ They seemed to be talking as if they knew each other.” 

“ Would you know him again if you saw him ? ” 

“ I’d swear to him anywhere.” 

“ Was there, then, anything particularly noticeable in 
his personal appearance ? ” 

‘‘ One shoulder was higher than another, and he kept 
hitching it up like.” 

“ He took his departure quickly when he saw you coming 
towards him ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ As if he wished to avoid you ? ” 

“ I can’t say anything about that, sir.” 

“ Did you see him again ? ” 

“ Never, sir.” 

Did it strike you that he was the child’s father?” 

“ No, sir, oh, no ! ” 


38 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


The prisoner had the child in her arms while she was 
conversing with the man. Did he take notice of it ? ” 

“ I didn’t see him notice the poor baby.” 

“ Was there any change in the prisoner’s manner after 
this visit ? ” 

‘‘She was lighter-hearted, I thought, for a little while.” 

“ At about that time did anything occur to cause you 
to suppose that the prisoner was short of money ? ” 

“ I had the idea she was.” 

“ What caused you to think so ? ” 

“ The last time she paid me she gave me only one week 
in advance, and I thought she took the last shilling out of 
her purse.” 

“ Did you make any remark ? ” 

“ I said, ‘ My dear, I can wait.’ She answered, ‘ No, 
Mrs. Tregartin, I will pay you now as much as I can.’ ” 

“ Can you give me the date of this last payment? ” 

“ It was on the 20th of April.” 

“On the 27th of April she would have had to pay you 
another week ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t have pressed her for it, sir.” 

“ I am sure you would not. Did you make no extra 
charge for the child ? ” 

“ No, sir, but the young lady spoke of it once, and I 
said, ‘ Let it bide till by-and-by.’ ‘ Very well,’ she an- 
swered, ‘ till by-and-by. I hope I shall be able to pay you 
one day.’ ” 

“Between the date of the stranger’s visit and the 25th 
of April was the prisoner strong enough to go out ? ” 

“Yes, sir ; she got strong sooner than I expected. She 
went out a good deal.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


39 


** With her baby ? ” 

^ Sometimes with, sometimes without. When baby was 
asleep she would ask me to look after it till she came back.” 

When she went out alone, was she absent for any 
length of time ? ” 

“ No, sir ; she wasn’t away long. She was anxious to 
get back, in case Pet should wake.” 

“ When she took the child with her, her absences were of 
longer duration ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Where did she go to on those occasions ? ” 

“ I don't know, sir.” 

“ She did not go the village ? ” 

^‘No, sir; she wouldn’t show her face there, especially 
when Pet was with her.” 

“ She must have gone either to Brentingham Forest or 
Rocky Reaches ? ” 

‘‘There was hardly any other place she could have 
gone to.” 

“ You are not aware whether she went there by appoint- 
ment to meet any person ? ” 

“ I am not, sir.” 

“ We will come now to the 25th of April. Nothing 
more was said about the registering of the child’s birth ? ” 

“ Yes, there was, sir. On the night before ” 

“ That is, on the night of the 24th ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. On that night I said to her, ‘ Don’t forget, 
my dear, that Pet must be registerered the day after to- 
rn rrow ? ” 

Did she reply ? ” 


40 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“She only nodded.” 

“ On the morning of the 25th of April you rose earlier 
than usual ? ” 

“We was up, my husband and me, and Jimmy, at five 
o’clock. There was a cheap train to the Crystal Palace, 
and there was to be fireworks and all sorts of things. 
We’d promised Jimmy a long time to take him to the Crys- 
tal Palace, and we took him that day. The train didn’t 
start till seven, but there was a lot of things to do before 
we set out, taking our dinner with us in a basket, and all 
that. Jimmy was in such a state of excitement that he 
woke us up at four, and wouldn’t go to bed again when we 
told him, but set at the window, waiting for daylight.” 

“ It was a fine morning? ” 

“Yes, sir, it was a fine morning, but my man said there’d 
be a change before the day was out. He’s a rare weather- 
wise man ? ” 

“ At what time did you start from your cottage ? ” 

“ At ten minutes past six.” 

“ Did you see the prisoner before you started?” 

“ Yes, sir. I went into her room softly, and she and 
Pet was fast asleep. I wouldn’t disturb ’em, but I just 
kissed baby, and came away.’ 

“ The prisoner knew you were going on this excursion ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; and I asked her if she could manage while I 
was away. She said she could manage quite well, and that 
she would take good care of everything at home. I left 
things as easy as I could for her.” 

“ That was the last time you saw the baby ? ” 

“ The last time, sir.” 


OR THE DEFENCE, 


41 


“ You arrived at the Crystal Palace, and spent a happy 
' day there ? ” 

“ It wouldn’t have been a happy one if I’d known how 
it was going to turn out. Nothing would have dragged me 
away.” 

“ Did the weather change during the day ? ” 

“ Yes, sir : it got pretty bad^ but we didn’t mind, because 
we was under cover the most of the time.” 

“ At what time did you leave the Crystal Palace ? ” 

“ At half-past nine at night. We didn’t expect to get 
home till on^ in the morning. There was an awful crush 
at the trains ; it was a mercy we got in whole.” 

“As you travelled onwards did the weather improve or 
get worse ? ” 

It got worse, sir ; a good deal worse. Before eleven 
o’clock there was a regular storm, and my husband said 
the wind was as bad as he ever remembered it.” 

“ You reached home at what hour ? ” 

“ Not before two in the morning. We had to carry 
Jimmy from the station through the wind and rain. He 
was dead tired, and so were we. By the time we got in- 
side we was drenched to the skin.” 

“ Did the prisoner receive you ? Was she waiting up 
for you ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Did you go to her room ? ” 

“ Yes, sir; after I’d put Jimmy to bed I went to her 
door, and listened. I didn’t hear anything, and then I 
turned the handle softly, but the door was locked. My 
idea was that the young lady had got frightened at the 


42 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


storm, and being in the house all alone with Pet, had 
locked her door.” 

“ She did not usually lock her bedroom door ? 

“ No, sir.” 

“ You believed her to be in her room, asleep ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Relate what occurred the following morning.” 

“ I didn’t get up till late. Past nine o’clock it was. My 
husband got up first, and as I turned in bed he told me to 
have my rest out for once, and that he’d look after giving 
Jimmy his breakfast and sending him to school. I was 
glad enough of the chance ; it don’t happen more than 
once in a blue moon, and I doubt if I should have got up 
at nine if it hadn’t been that I thought of the young lady, 
and that there was no one to get her breakfast ready. So 
up I jumped and dressed, and went downstairs.” 

“The prisoner was not there.? ” 

“ No j but I didn’t think anything of that. After Pet 
was born she always came down late. I waited awhile, 
and as I didn’t hear any movement in the young lady’s 
room I went up to her, thinking she mightn’t be well. The 
door was still locked, and when I knocked I got no answer. 
I knocked louder and louder, and then I called out to her, 
without hearing the sound of her voice. I got frightened 
that something had happened, and I stood considering 
what I should do, and at last made up my mind to go and 
fetch my husband. He was at work two mile off, but I 
thought that would be better than bringing in any strangers 
till we found out what was the matter. So I threw on my 
bonnet and ran through the rain to the place he was work- 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


43 


ing in, only to find that he wasn’t there, and had been 
sent a goodish distance for some roots. I trapesed home 
again as hard as I could, and went up again to the young 
lady’s room, and shook the door, and cried out to her ; 
but I might as well have called to the dead. There was 
nothing for it, I thought, but to call in a neighbor to break 
the door open, and I was going to do that when I caught 
sight of a key hanging on a nail in the dresser. It was 
the key of the young lady’s room. I opened it quick, and 
it was quite empty.” 

“ As on the previous occasion, did the bed appear to be 
slept in ? ” 

“ It hadn’t been.” 

“ Was the room in disorder ? ” 

‘‘ No, sir, it seemed to me as if it had been tidied up.” 

“ Was the prisoner’s hat or cloak there ? ” 

“ No, sir; nor the baby’s things. Everything they used 
to go out in was gone.” 

“ It appears to be certain that when you came home 
late in the night from your excursion to the Crystal Palace 
the prisoner and her child were already gone ! ” 

That’s certain, sir.” 

Did you make any inquiries what kind of weather 
reigned in the village on the previous day ? ” 

I was told there was a big storm raging. The water 
came down in torrents.” 

‘‘ During which storm the prisoner must have left your 
house ? ” 

I suppose so, sir.” 

By design apparently, as she and her child were dressed 
for walking ? ” 


44 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


I suppose so, sir.” 

Was it known whether any person had called at your 
house on that day ? ” 

“ I inquired, but nobody had seen anybody.” 

Was the prisoner seen out walking by any of your 
neighbors, or by anyone in the village ? ” 

“ Not that I heard of, sir.” 

“ After discovering that the prisoner had fled with her 
child, what did you do ? ” 

” What could I do, sir, but wait till my husband came 
home.” 

“ He returned at his usual hour ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ The rain still continued ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, a dismal, melancholy kind of rain.” 

“ What did your husband do when you told him what 
had occurred ? ” 

“ Went out, as he’d done before, to look for the young 
lady.” 

“ And, as before, he came back with her ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Without her child ? ” 

Yes, sir.” 

“ On the first occasion he brought her home she was 
insensible. Was she so on this occasion ? ” 

“ No, sir. She was in a dreadful state of distraction. 
My husband had to bring her home by force.” 

“ How did she behave when he set her down in your 
house?” 

“ She did nothing but cry, ‘ My baby ! Where’s my 
baby ! O, my darling, my darling ! ’ She ran up to her 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


45 


room, hoping, as I thought, to find Pet there, and then 
she ran down again, and would have run out of the house, 
but my man wouldn’t let her. ‘ What has become of the 
child ? ’ I asked of her ; and all she answered was, ‘ O, 
my darling, my darling ! Where is she ? Where is she ? ’ 
That was all I could get out of her.” 

“ What was done next ? ” 

“ My husband told me to keep the young lady in, and 
not to let her leave the house if I had to hold her down. 
‘ Listen to me,’ he said to her. ‘ I am going out to find 
the child. You’ll remain here till I come back.’ She strug- 
gled with us, but she had as much strength as a kitten. I 
don’t believe she’d had anything to eat for two days. 
When she stopped struggling, my husband said to her, 
‘ Where did you take the child ? To the forest ? ’ She 
didn’t answer. ‘ To the Reaches ? ’ he asked. Then she 
moaned, ‘ O, the water, the water ! The dreadful black 
water ! ’ ‘ You know what you’ve got to do,’ my husband 

said to me, and I nodded and said she shouldn’t leave the 
house. Then he went away, and didn’t come back till 
past midnight. ‘ I can’t see anything of the child,’ he said 
to me. By that time the young lady, who had gone out 
of one faint into another, was quiet. She wasn’t uncon- 
scious, but she had no strength left in her, and she kept 
moaning and moaning for her darling. He spoke to her 
again, but she did nothing but moan for the child. At 
last my husband said, ‘ We can’t keep this to ourselves ; 
it’s too serious ; I shall go to the police-station.’ He sent 
the doctor first, who gave her something to drink — we had 
to force it down her throat — and it sent her off into a sleep. 


46 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Then a policeman came, and, after putting a lot of ques- 
tions, told us we should get ourselves into trouble if we 
let the young lady out of our sight. The next day she was 
taken into custody.” 

That is all you know ? 

“ That is all I know, sir.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


47 


CHAPTER V. 

CROSS-EXAMINATION OF MRS. TREGARTIN. 

“ I HAVE only a few questions to put to you, Mrs. Tre- 
gartin. From first to last was the conduct of the accused 
in your house that of a gentle-mannered lady ? ” 

“ From first to last, sir, it was that if it was anything. A 
sweeter-tempered lady, with gentler manners, I never met 
in the whole course of my life.” 

A lady who would not harm any one in any way <! ” 

It wasn’t in her, sir. I never saw any one who was 
more considerate and tender-hearted. It wasn’t only to 
us, sir, it was to every living creature — dogs, and birds, 
and every animal alike. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

“ Even from them she won affection ? ” 

“ Indeed she did, sir. They seemed to know she was 
their friend. As for us, my husband and me used often to 
talk about her kind nature. It was that, and her manners 
always, and her being forlorn and forsaken like, that made 
us so fond of her.” 

“ Your little son loved her ? ” 

Indeed he did, sir ; next to us the best in the world.” . 
“ She had a good influence over him ? She taught him 
to be kind to dumb creatures, as she was herself? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; and he got to look up to her as something 
quite different from other people. We’ve got arpicture- 
book at home, with a picture of an angel in it. He used 
to look at it and say, ‘ That is like her, mother.’ ” 


48 


FOR THE defence. 


“ You speak of her being forsaken. You believe that 
she came to your house and sought refuge there, to conceal 
herself from her friends ? 

“ That was my belief, sir, and to hide her shame.” 

“ You have seen mothers with children. Did you ever 
see a young mother fonder of her baby than she was ? ” 
Never, sir.’' 

‘‘ Did you ever nave any fear that she would harm her 
child ? ” 

“ It isn’t possible, sir, that such an idea should have 
entered my mind.” 

“ Even when she was accused of the crime with which 
she is now charged, you did not believe it ? ” 

“ I did not, sir. If it was the last word I ever spoke, it 
would be to say she was innocent.” 

“ Can you give us any closer description of the man 
with whom you saw her talking at the door of your house 
than that one of his shoulders was higher than the other, 
and that he kept hitching it up ? ” 

“ No, sir. I saw him only twice, and only for a minute 
each time, and he seemed to wish to keep himself from 
notice.” 

“ That did not strike you as significant when you saw 
him ? ” 

No, sir ; but it does now.” 

“ His visit being paid after you begged the accused to 
write to her friends, is it your belief that he came in 
response to her letter ? ” 

“ That was in my mind, sir.” 

“ His appearance generally was not prepossessing? ” 


POR THE DEFENCE. 


49 


Not at all, sir. He had a hang-dog look.’^ 

“ Has it occurred to you that he was not acting for 
himself, but for some person who employed him and kept 
in the background ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, it has.” 

“ You are positive you would be able to recognize him 
if you saw him ? ” 

“ I am positive of it, sir,” 

I am sensible of the fair way in which you have given 
your evidence. I have nothing further to ask you.” 

“ Thank you, sir.” 

During the cross-examination of this witness an officer 
of the court had handed some article to the counsel for 
the prosecution, and had made a communication to him. 
As she was about to step from the box the counsel for the 
prosecution said to her, “ One moment, Mrs. Tregartin, 
remain where you are,” and then addressed the judge : 

“ My lord, a discovery has just been made which may 
or may not be of importance. I ask your lordship’s per- 
mission to interrogate the witness concerning this dis- 
covery. I presume the defence will raise no objection, 
notwithstanding that the questions I wish to put do not 
spring from the cross-examination.” 

Counsel for the defence : “ We desire, my lord, the 
fullest investigation and the most searching inquiry. It is 
our hope that, before the trial is ended, some evidence 
which does not at this moment appear to be forthcom- 
ing — particularly as respects the man to whom the witness 
has referred — will be presented which will throw a dif- 


4 


50 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


ferent light upon the case. I may also have to ask for 
some indulgence which I trust will be granted.” 

The judge (to the counsel for the prosecution) ; ‘^You 
may proceed.” 

Counsel for the prosecution (to Mrs. Tregartin) : When 
the prisoner came to your house was she wearing any 
articles of jewellery, such as ear-rings, watch and chain, 
and that like ? 

I did not notice at the time, sir, but afterwards I did. 
She did not wear ear-rings or any watch and chain. All 
she wore was a brooch.” 

‘‘ An old or a new-fashioned brooch ? ” 

“ An old fashioned one, sir. It had hair in it, and there 
was a glass at the back as well as the front, with a portrait 
in it.” 

“ The portrait of a lady ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ The portrait being at the back of the brooch, how did 
you happen to see it ? ” 

“ It was on her table once, sir, and I took it up and 
looked at it.” 

“ Was the prisoner in the room at the time ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Did anything pass beween you and the prisoner with 
respect to it ? ” 

“ I said to her, ‘ Who is this, my dear ? ^ She answered 
that it was the portrait of a lady she loved, and I saw the 
tears in her eyes while she spoke.” 

“ Did she wear the brooch continually ? ” 

“ She always wore it, sir.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


51 


“ Do you happen to know that she wore it on the day 
before you and your family went to the Crystal Palace ? 

Yes, sir, I saw it on her then.” 

When your husband brought her home on the follow- 
ing night was she wearing it ?” 

“ No, sir.’* 

How do you know that for certain ? ” 

“ I undressed and put her to bed, and as I took off her 
clothes I missed it. I searched for it about the room, think- 
ing it might have dropped, but I couldn’t find it.” 

“ You can identify the brooch ? ” 

Oh, yes, sir.” 

“ Is this it ? ” 

Yes, sir ; this is the brooch.” 

‘‘ That will do, Mrs. Tregartin.” 

Counsel for the defence ; “ Do not go yet, Mrs. Tregartin.” 
To the judge : I claim a similar privilege, my lord, to put 
a question to the witness which does not spring from the 
re-examination.” To the witness : “You have told us that 
after the visit of the man to the accused she went out a 
good deal, taking her child with her sometimes, and that 
on those occasions she went either to Brentingham Forest 
or Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ I said, sir, that she must have gone to one of those 
places, which were favorite places with her, as she never 
went again to the village.” 

“ A further question was, whether she went there by 
appointment to meet any person. You answered that you 
were not aware of it.” * 


I was not aware of it, sir.” 


5 ^ 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ Was it a warm spring ? ” 

“ No, sir j rather a cold one.” 

“ Loving her child as she did, and being of the kindly 
disposition you have described, do you think it likely that 
she would have taken it out in such cold weather unless she 
had some more special reason for her action than that of 
merely taking an idle walk ? ” 

“ She always wrapped the child up warm. I had some 
baby things of Jimmy’s that I lent her. But I don’t think 
it likely she would have gone out on some days without a 
particular reason.” 

“ Such as keeping an appointment with some person ? ” 

“Yes, sir ; such as that.” 

The witness then left the box. 

“ Call John Baldwin.” 

The witness came forward. 

“ Your name is John Baldwin ?” 

“ That’s my name.” 

“ You are a police-constable.” 

“ That’s my calling.” 

“ You have been searching lately in the vicinity of 
Rocky Reaches for some evidence in connection with this 
charge ? ” 

“ That’s what I’ve been about. As other things was 
found ” 

“ Never mind the other things j you did not find them. 
Answer the question.” 

“ I thought I might find something myself.” 

“ You searched there this morning ? ” 

“ I was at it for more than an hour.” 

“ You found something ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


S3 


A gold brooch, with hair in it.” 

Is this the brooch ? ” 

“ The identical article.” 

“ You found it among the rocks ? ” 

“ In a cleft in one of the rocks. Tide’s down, you see.” 
“ What made you bring it to the court ? ” 

“ I heard say at the station that there must be a brooch 
somewhere belonging to the prisoner.” 

“ From the nature of the spot in which you found it, do 
you believe it has lain there since the 25th of April, or only 
washed up lately with the tide ? ” 

“ It might have been one way, it might have been the 
other.” 

“Exactly.” 

Counsel for the defence : I have no questions to ask 
you.” 


54 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE TWO SISTERS TREE. 

During the adjournment, which took place after the 
examination of the last witness, the counsel for the defence 
employed his time in dispatching telegrams to his friend, 
Andrew Denver. The first of these telegrams referred to 
the personal description given by Mrs. Tregartin of the 
man who had visited the accused girl at the cottage. He 
was very minute in his particulars, and he concluded with 
the words, “ I have a strong impression that if this man 
can be found and brought to me I can make use of him to 
a good end. Spare no efforts to discover him.” Another 
of the telegrams referred to the finding of the brooch at 
Rocky Reaches, and in this telegram Denver was also 
urged not to relax his zealous endeavors, as indeed was the 
case with all the despatches. 

The first witness called upon the reassembling of the 
Court was Mrs. Tregartin’s husband. After the first 
questions were put, confirming the evidence already given 
by his wife, the examination proceeded thus : 

“ On the 25th of April you and your wife and son spent 
the day at the Crystal Palace ? ” 

“We did.” 

“Leaving the prisoner and her baby alone in your 
house ? ’ 

“ Yes.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


55 


You returned late on the morning of the 26th ? ” 

^^Yes.” 

“ And went to your work while your wife was resting in 
bed ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You came home from your work at your usual hour ? ” 

“Yes, at six o’clock.’' 

“ Your wife hadCjomething to tell you with reference to 
^he prisoner ? ” 

“ She told me that the young lady had disappeared, and 
must have left the house before we came back from the 
Crystal Palace.” 

‘ Upon receiving that information what did you do ? ” 

“ I went out to find her.” 

“ Where did you go first ? ” 

“ To Brentingham Forest. I would have gone to the 
4^illage, but my wife told me she had made every inquiry 
there, without getting any satisfaction.” 

“ Why did you go first to Brentingham Forest instead of 
to Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ I thought it was the most likely place to find her. She 
could get some sort of shelter there, though poor enough. 
At Rocky Reaches she could get none, and would hardly 
run the risk of giving her baby a soaking.” 

“ There is no shelter of any kind at Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ None at all.” 

“ Where do Rocky Reaches lead to ? ” 

“ Straight to the sea.” 

“ So that no person, knowing anything of the place, 
would go in that direction in order to reach a place of 
safety ? ” 


56 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


They would be mad to do it. There’s no saying what 
a lady out of her mind would do.” 

“ The prisoner was acquainted with the spot ? 

“ She used to go there sometimes.” 

“ In the daylight ? ” 

“Yes.” 

She took sketches there ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ So that she must have been familiar with its character ? ” 
“Yes.” 

“You did not find her in Brentingham Forest ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Did you see any traces of her there ? ” 

“It was difficult to see anything, it was so dark.” 

“ Rain was coming down ? ” 

“ Steady.” 

“ What induced you to go to Rocky Reaches to find her ? ” 
“ I went on the off chance.” 

“ There was just a possibility of your finding her there ? ” 
“ Just that.” 

“ Did you find her at once when you reached Rocky 
Reaches ? ” 

“ No, not at once. There’s a longish stretch of rocks, 
and it isn’t easy to get about on a dark night.” 

“ Let us understand. When the tide is down, how far 
can you walk over the rocks till you get into deep water ? ” 
“ Half a mile and more.’ 

“ The tide was down on this night ? ” 

“ It was.” 

“ Not finding the prisoner near shore you went out upon 
the rocks towards the sea ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


57 


“ Yes, and I called out to her.” 

“ Proceed.” 

‘‘ As I was picking my way I thought I saw a figure 
moving in the distance. I stepped towards it, and made 
out it was the figure of a woman. I called out louder, and 
she rose upright.” ^ 

‘‘ She was stooping when you first caught sight of her ? ” 
“ Yes. When she rose upright I made sure it was the 
young lady, and I walked quicker. She ran from me, 
waving her hands distracted like. Frightened at the danger 
she was in I ran faster and caught hold of her.” 

What did she say ? ” 

‘ Let me go, let me go ! ’ ” 

“ You kept your hold upon her ? ” 

I did, and I said, ‘ Why, where’s the baby ? ’ She 
cried, softlike, ‘ My baby, my darling ! I must find her, I 
must find her ! ’ ” 

“ Anything else ? ” 

Nothing else. She kept on repeating the words a 
hundred times it seemed to me. I couldn’t get anything 
else out of her, and I thought she was crazed. I looked 
about, but saw nothing of the child. All the while I didn’t 
let go of her, though she tried to wrench herself away, but 
she had no strength. All she could do then was to sob and 
cry and wring her hands. At las.t, as I could see nothing 
of the child, I thought the best thing I could do was to 
take the young lady home. I’m sorry to say I had to use 
force, she was that unwilling to leave the water. I carried 
her home, and told my wife to take care of her, and then 
I got a lantern and went back to the Reaches to look for 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


S» 

the child. After searching for a couple of hours I had to 
give it up. When I got home again the young lady was 
very ill, and I fetched Dr. Martin to her, and then went to 
the police-station to tell them the child was missing." 

“ Since then have you been to Rocky Reaches in the 
expectation of making some discovery ? ” 

“ Yes, but I haven’t made any.” 

“ A stranger once came to your house to see the 
prisoner ? ” 

“ So I heard from my wife.” 

“ She has given you a description of this stranger ? ’’ 

“ Yes.” 

“ Did you ever see, in or near the village, any strange 
man answering to that description ? ” 

Never.” 

“ You are aware that, after the birth of her child, the 
prisoner paid frequent visits to Brentingham Forest, remain- 
ing there longer than she had been in the habit of doing ? ” 

“Yes, that is the truth.” 

‘ Do you know whether she went to meet anybody in 
the forest ? ” 

“ I don’t know anything about that.” 

< Is Brentingham Forest a place where secret meetings 
can be held in safety ? ” 

“ I should say it was.” 

In the cross-examination of this witness counsel for the 
defence pursued the same line he had adopted with Mrs. 
Tregartin. He made no endeavor to instil doubts of the 
credibility of the witness, and did not touch the facts 
brought out in evidence. His questions were framed so as 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


59 


to establish the kindness and gentleness of the prisoner’s 
disposition, and to make it appear impossible that a person 
with a nature so sweet and amiable could be guilty of the 
crime of which she stood charged. Mr. Tregartin answered 
these questions as his wife had answered them, and, as 
his wife had done, he found an opportunity of testifying 
his unshaken belief in the prisoner’s innocence. 

The next witness called was the son of the last two, James 
Tregartin, a bright little lad, whose evidence proved a 
surprise to those engaged in the case. 

What is your name, my boy ? ” 

Jimmy Tregartin, please, sir.” 

How old are you ? ” 

“ Ten, if you please, sir.” 

“ You go to school ? ” 

*^Yes, sir.” 

“ Can you read ? ” 

“ Large print, if you please, sir, slow,” 

You cannot read handwriting ? ” 

‘‘Not yet, sir.” 

“ You mean to one day ? ” 

“Yes, sir, please.” 

“ Do you understand what you did just now when you 
kissed the Bible ? ” 

“ I was to tell the truth.” 

“ Will anything happen to you if you do not tell the 
truth ? ” 

“ I shall be burnt in hell fire, if you please, sir.” 

“ You understand that when you kissed the Bible you 
took an oath to tell the truth about all you know ? ” 


6o 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ And that if you do not, it will be a great sin ? ” 

“Yes, sir. God will punish me for it, if you please, 
sir.” 

“ Very well, my boy. Look around. Do you see any- 
body you know ? ” 

“ There’s mother, sir, and father, and there’s old Mrs. 
Tunbridge, as sells brandy-balls, and Mr. Broad, the 
butcher, and Silly Thomas, and there’s her.” (Pointing to 
the prisoner ) 

“You know her ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; she* lived with us and had a baby.” 

“ She was very kind to you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ Did she ever ask you to take a letter for her to the 
post office ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, more than one ; and she used to give me a 
penny for doing it.” 

“ What did she say to you when sne gave you these 
letters ? ” 

“ That I was to put them in the box and not let anybody 
look at ’em.” 

“ You did as you were told ? ” 

“Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ Did she ever ask you to go to the post-office, and bring 
back a letter for her ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Did she give you a paper with writing on it when she 
sent you there ? ” 

“ Yes, sir” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


6i 


“You do not know what the writing was ? ” 

“ No, sir, if you please.” 

“You gave the paper to the people who keep the post- 
office?” 

“ Yes, sir, if you please — to Miss Field, behind the 
counter.” 

“ Did Miss Field ever give you a letter for her ? ” (No 
answer; question repeated.) “You must tell the truth, 
my boy.” 

“ Miss Field did give me a letter for her.” 

Mrs. Tregartin (from the body of the court) : “ Oh, 
Jimmy, and you never told me ! ” 

Usher : “ Silence in the court ! ” 

Examination continued. “ Did Miss Field give you 
more than one ? Do not be frightened. Tell the truth, 
and no one will harm you. Did Miss Field give you more 
than one ? ” 

“ She gave me one twice, if you please, sir.” 

“ And you gave them to the prisoner ? ” 

“ No, sir, I gave them to the lady.” 

“ Did she tell you not to tell anybody if you got any 
letters for her ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, and I promised not to, if you please.” 

“You did not tell your mother or your father?” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Did they ever ask you ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Can you tell us of any other letters besides those you 
took to the post-office for her, and those you received from 
Miss Field ? ” 


62 


FOR TffE DEFENCE. 


I oughtn’t to, sir, if you please.” 

“ Yes, my boy, you ought to, if there were any, because 
you have promised to tell the truth. There were some 
other letters ? ” 

“ Only two, sir, if you please.” 

Two that you got for her ? ” 

“ I only got one, sir.” 

“ What was the other one, my boy ? Look at me, and 
not at anyone else, and do not be frightened at all. You 
will not be punished for telling the truth. What was the 
other letter you did not get for her? ” 

“ The lady gave it to me, sir, to put somewhere.” 

“ Not in the post-office? ” 

No, sir, if you please.” 

“ Where, then ? ” 

“ In a tree, sir.” 

“ Where is this tree? ” 

In the forest, sir.” 

“ In Brentingham Forest?” 

“Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ There are a great many trees there, are there not ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, thousands and thousands ; but this is the 
Two Sisters tree. Everybody knows it, it is such a funny 
tree.” 

“ What makes it funny ? ” 

“ It’s like two legs growing upside down. And there’s 
heads on the top, with eyes in them.” 

“ Is there a hole in this tree ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ And she told you to put the letter she gave you into 
this hole ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


63 


** Yes, sir, if you please.” 

“ And you found the letter you got for her in this hole ? ” 
“ Yes, sir, with some stones on the top of it.” 

‘‘ She told you not to say anything to anybody about 
these letters ? ” 

“Yes, sir, and I wouldn’t say anything now, only you 
say I must.” 

“ Yes, my boy.” (At this point of the examination a 
paper from the counsel for the defence was handed to Mr. 
Tregartin, who read it, and immediately left the court.) 
“ When were you sent to the Two Sisters tree, after or 
before the baby was born ? ” 

“ After baby was born, if you please, sir. Baby wasn’t 
well, and she couldn’t go herself, she said.” 

“ I have nothing more to ask you, my boy. Yuu have 
answered very well.” 

Cross-examined : “ The lady taught you your lessons, 
did she not ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, of a night when I came home from school.” 
“Was she ever unkind to you? ” 

“ Never, sir. She couldn’t be.” 

“ Did you do your lessons well ? ” 

“ Not always, if you please, sir,” 

“ You made mistakes ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Did she scold you for them ? ” 

“ No, sir, she never did.” 

“ Did she teach you anything else besides your lessons ? ’ 
“ I used to kill flies, if you please, sir. She said it was 
very, very wrong, and I never did again.” 


64 


FOR THE defence. 


“ She taught you to be kind to every living thing ? ** 

“ Yes, sir, down to the very littlest things.’ 

“ Did she ever hurt any living creature herself ? ” 

“ Never, sir. She couldn’t have done it if she tried.” 

“ You did not think it wrong to post her letters and go 
for them ? ” 

“ No, sir, she couldn’t do anything wrong.” 

‘‘That will do, my boy. You can join your mother.” 

The lad lingered a moment, and said timidly, “ May the 
lady come with me, if you please, sir ? ” 

“ No, my boy, not just now.” 

The little witness left the box, and went to his mother 
in the body of the court. 

“ Call Dr. Martin.” 

The witness stepped into the box and was sworn. 

“ You attended the prisoner ? ” 

“ On several occasions, when she was ill, and during her 
confinement.” 

“Was the child a healthy child?” 

“ Healthy, and well formed.” 

“Not likely, from any inherent disease, to cause anxiety 
to the mother ? ” 

“By no means. There was nothing whatever the mat- 
ter with it. The child was one a young mother would be 
proud of.” 

“From your opportunities for observation you would 
be able to judge of the mother’s character ? ” 

“ Undoubtedly.” 

“ You judged her to be a person somewhat superior to 
one living where she did ? ’ 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


65 


** In every way superior. A lady.’^ 

Did she herself suffer from any particular disease or 
ailment ? 

“ According to my observation, from none.” 

She was bodily healthy ? ” 

“ Perfectly so.” 

“ Is it likely that her mind would be impaired by pain 
and suffering ? ” 

“ Not by physical pain and suffering. Nevertheless, it 
was clear to me that she suffered greatly.” 

“ From some mental cause ? ” 

Yes, from some mental cause.” 

With which you are unacquainted.” 

“ With which I am unacquainted. 

“ Did you ask her to confide in you*? ” 

“ I threw out a hint that it might assist me in my treat- 
ment of her if she informed me of the cause of her suffer- 
ing. She did not respond to it.” 

“ Was her mind unbalanced ? ” 

“ No, but a secret grief was preying upon her.” 

“You consider her to be in full possession of her 
reason ? ” 

“ In full possession.” 

“ And accountable for her actions ? ” 

“ Quite so.” 

“ Up to the last occasion on which you visited her pro- 
fessionally while she was living with the Tregartins ? ” 

“ Yes, up to that last occasion.” 

“ That last visit was paid on the night of the disappear- 
ance of her child ? ” 


66 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Yes ; Mr. Tregartin came to fetch me.” 

“ You administered an opiate ^ 

“ I did.” 

To what cause do you ascribe her condition on that 
night ? ” 

“ To what had occurred with respect to her child, to 
physical exhaustion and to mental distraction.” 

“ But you would not pronounce her to be insane ? ” 

“ Certainly not. It is my opinion she had not tasted food 
for a great number of hours. That alone would account 
for her condition.” 

“ You have seen her in prison since her arrest? ” 

‘‘ I have.” 

“ Did you remark anything in her which would induce 
you to alter your opinion ? ’ 

“ Nothing.” 

“ You believe her at the present time to be in full pos- 
session of her reasoning faculties ? ” 

“ I know of nothing that would cause me to express an 
opposite opinion. She is suffering still, but I should say, 
though appearances might lead an inexperienced person 
not to believe so, that she has a somewhat remarkable 
strength of character. That she should so steadfastly have 
preserved the secret which in some measure is a cause of 
this suffering is to me partly a proof of strength of char- 
acter.” 

You would not ascribe this to an unreasonable obsti- 
nacy ? ” 

‘‘ No. Rather to firmness, and to the strength of 
character I have mentioned.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 67 

Cross-examined : “ Dr. Martin, is it not a fact that 

young mothers frequently suffer under delusions ? ” 

It is.” 

During which they are not responsible for their 
actions ? ” 

That is the case.” 

“ May this not have been so with the accused ? ” 

“ It may have been. Everything in human action is 
possible, but I understand we are speaking of what is 
probable, not of what is possible.” 

“ It is my duty to examine this charge from all points of 
view.” 

“It is equally my duty to state frankly — and I beg you 
to believe without bias — the results of my professional 
studies and experience.” 

“ I do not for a moment dispute it, and I am satisfied 
that you speak without bias. But I would ask you to 
consider j I may present a view which has not occurred to 
you. You have given strong evidence as to the condition 
of the accused on the night you were called in after the 
disappearance of the child. On what day, previous to 
that night, did you see her ? ” 

“ If you will allow me to refer to a book I have in my 
pocket I can tell you with certainty.” 

“ I shall feel obliged if you will refer to it.” 

“ It contains a list of my visits this year with the dates. 
The last occasion on which I visited the prisoner previous 
to the night of the 26th of April, or, to speak more cor- 
rectly, previous to the morning of the 27th — for it was 
past midnight when I was called in — was the 2nd of April.” 


68 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


‘•So that during twenty -four days you did not see her? ” 
“ That is so.” 

“ In that interval might not some change have taken 
place in the mental condition of the accused which would 
be destructive of the belief you have expressed ? ” 

“ It is quite probable. I can only testify to what I saw, 
and I saw no change.” 

“ But your visit to the accused was paid alter the event, 
and not before ? ” 

“ Yes, that is so.” 

“ It is therefore probable that at some time or other 
during the interval of twenty-four days the mind of the 
accused might, from some cause or other, have been thrown 
off its balance ? ” 

“ Yes. I can only repeat that on the night of the 26th she 
was, in my belief, sane, and accountable for her actions.” 

“ There have been cases of mental aberration lasting only 
a short time ? ” 

“ They are common.” 

“ And upon those so suffering awaking from their delu- 
sion their minds apparently are in a healthy condition? 

‘ I have had experience of such cases.” 

“ Leaving no trace of their previous delusion ? ” 

“ Apparently none.” 

“ So that a doctor, not having seen his patient for twenty- 
four days, may be deceived ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ As you may have been ? ” 

“ I am bound to say it is a fair presumption.” 

“ I thank you, sir.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


69 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE CLOSE OF THE PROSECUTION. 

Police-constable Thorough was called. 

“ You arrested the prisoner early on the morning of the 
27th of April ? ” 

Yes. A warrant was made out, and I was sent to 
execute it.” 

“ You acquainted her with the charge brought against 
her?” 

I told her that she was arrested for drowning her 
baby.” 

“ Did she make any remark ? ” 

‘‘ No, she was dazed — out of her mind. I put some 
questions to her.” 

The judge : A very improper proceeding.” 

She made no resistance ? ” 

‘‘ No, she came quietly enough, and didn’t seem to un- 
derstand what I said.” 

“ On the following day you searched Brentingham Forest 
and Rocky Reaches ? ” 

I was directed to do so, to find some evidence of the 
crime.” 

Did you find any ? ” 

Not in the forest. I did in Rocky Reaches.” 

“ What did you find ? 

A baby’s hood and a baby’s woollen shoe. Later on 
I found a handkerchief.” 


70 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Are these the articles ? ” 

They are.” 

The hood is in two pieces. How does that happen ? ” 
“ I found the pieces in different places.” 

‘ Both among the rgcks ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

** Near the shore ? ” 

“ Nearer to the sea.” 

As if they had been carried out to sea by the tide and 
washed up again ? ” 

“ That was my judgment of it.” 

You discovered no traces of ^e body of the child ? ” 
» No.” 

That is all the evidence you can give ? ” 

“ It is all I know.” 

‘‘ Cross-examined : You say the articles appeared to 
have been carried out to sea and washed up again. How 
did you arrive at that conclusion ? ” 

It was my opinion.” 

“ Would not a heavier object, suph as a human body, 
be more likely to be washed up than a light one ? ” 

“ I should say not. A body would sink ; a hood and a 
shoe and a woman’s handkerchief would float.” 

Just so. But if the articles you found had been placed 
on the rocks they would get entangled among them, and 
might remain fixed there ? ” 

I’ve nothing to say against that, but who could have 
put them there ? ” 

It is your business to answer questions, not to ask 
them. Say that such light articles as these were placed 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


71 


among the rocks when the tide was low, and that the hood 
was torn in two pieces, and dropped in different parts of 
the Reaches, would it not be more likely that the out- 
going tide would not carry them away, by reason of their 
being entangled in the rocks ? 

That’s not impossible.” 

^‘Are the rocks sharp and jutting where you found 
these articles ? ” 

Yes.” 

Particularly so.” 

Yes, particularly so.” 

So that soft woollen articles, dropped there accidentally 
or purposely, would be likely to be caught on the jagged 
points ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Then the action of the sea, washing in and out, would, 
instead of completely detaching them, tear pieces from 
them .? ” 

Yes, that accounts for the hood being torn to pieces.” 

‘‘ Not torn to pieces. Torn in two pieces ? ” 

Well, torn in two pieces.” 

Examine the two pieces of this hood. Is the tear such 
as would be caused by a rush of waters over sharp rocks 
in which the hood was fixed ? ” 

How can I say ? ” 

Once again I tell you that you are not to ask ques- 
tions, but to answer them. Answer my question.” 

“ I can^t with any certainty.” 

I don’t ask ypu to answer, with certainty. I under- 
stand that you are as well acquainted with the peculiar 


72 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


characteristics of Rocky Reaches as any person in the 
district ? 

“ IVe known it well, man and boy, for forty odd years.” 

“ Just so. And therefore, to such a question as I have 
put to you, your experience would enable you to give an 
answer of technical value ? ” 

“ Well, I don’t see my way to answering it as you want 
me to.” 

I will come to the point by an illustration. You have 
a handkerchief in your pocket ? ” 

Of course I have.” 

Say that you went to Rocky Reaches at low tide, and 
fixed your handkerchief in the sharp jagged rocks there, 
what would you expect to see of it after a lapse of several 
hours ? ” 

Hardly anything at all.” 

, “ What would become of it ? ” 

It would be torn to shreds. There might be a bit or 
two clinging to the rocks because they couldn’t get away, 
and that would be the extent of what I should expect to 
find.” 

“Will you allow me to look at your handkerchief?” 
(Handkerchief produced.) “ You are a prudent man, I 
see ; you purchase your handkerchiefs for long wear. If 
you put it on the rocks of Rocky Reaches in the way I 
mentioned, there would be an end of it ? ” 

“ That there would.” 

“ Take the handkerchief and the pieces of the hood in 
your hand. Which is the stouter material ? ” 

“ My handkerchief.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


73 


Then how is it that the action of the waves upon the 
two articles would, in your opinion, have such a different 
effect — tearing the stouter, your handkerchief, to frag- 
ments, and the more delicate, the hood, onl^into two 
pieces ? ” 

“ I don’t know. It is a matter of opinion \ and I dare- 
say you’re right, and I’m wrong.” 

“ But I am not an expert ; you are. I have been only 
twice to Rocky Reaches, and that within the last three 
days j you have visited regularly all your life. Is it not 
, pretty certain that the hood, the flimsier of the two articles, 
would meet with the same fate as your handkerchief ? ” 
Well, yes, it is.” 

‘‘ Examine the pieces of the hood again, and then pass 
it up to the jury. It is divided, is it not, by one straight 
tear?” 

“ Yes, it is straight enough ? ” 

“ The edges are not more frayed than they would have 
been if the hood had been torn by human hands ? ” 

“ No, they’re not.” 

The hood, torn into two pieces by human agency, is 
very likely to have been fixed in the places you found them 
by some person, the intention being that they should be 
found as you found them ? ” 

“ Well, yes, as you put it so.” 

“ The same with the woollen shoe, which is not torn ? 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘ The same with the handkerchief, which is not torn ? ” 

» Yes.” 

« That will do.” 


74 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


Mrs. Tregartin,. recalled, identified the three articles, the 
handkerchief as the prisoner’s, the hood and shoe as having 
been worn by the baby. While she was being examined 
attention was directed to the circumstance that the hand- 
kerchief bore no initials, and that there was an appearance 
of letters, previously worked in a corner, having been 
picked out. It transpired that this was the case with all 
the prisoner’s linen, denoting the extreme caution she had 
used in concealing her identity. 

At three o’clock in the afternoon the case for the pro- 
secution was closed, and then the counsel for the defence 
asked for the indulgence of the court. He said he had 
not expected that the prosecution would have been con- 
cluded at so early an hour, and that he was not prepared 
to commence the defence until the following morning. No 
serious objection was raised to the delay, and the court 
therefore adjourned at an early hour, free access to the 
prisoner being granted to her counsel. In the minds of 
the majority of the spectators there was a general convic- 
tion of her guilt, and there was little doubt as to what the 
verdict would be. In the legal mind there was none at 
all. But two or three of the on-lookers were shaken in 
their conviction by the cross-examination of Constable 
Thorough, and they stood outside the court, with others, 
discussing the affair in the advantage of broad day-light, 
which also afforded them a better opportunity of seeing 
the legal luminaries engaged in the case as they filed out. 
Next to the judge, who was gazed at with awe and admira- 
tion, the gentleman they were most interested in was the 
counsel for the defence, concerning whom certain rumors 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


75 

naa got about ; but it was some time before he made his 
appearance. 

“ He’s talking to the prisoner,” said a tradesman from 
the village ; “ trying to get something out of her.” 

They do say,” observed another villager, “ that she 
hain’t opened her lips to him since he took up the case. 
Here’s Mr. Broad ; he’s got a head on him. Mr. Broad, 
what do you think of it ? Guilty or not guilty ? ” 

The three men now in conclave were Mr. Toogood, the 
chief draper of the village, Mr. Shortlands, landlord of the 
George, and Mr. Broad, the butcher, Mr. Toogood and 
Mr. Broad were controversial, their opinions being of the 
weathercock order ; Mr. Shortlands was a man who always 
agreed with the last speaker. A few yards from the group 
stood Silly Thomas, also from the neighboring village, with 
a dim hope that somebody would “ treat ” him, or would 
give him a penny to stand himself half-a-pint of fourpenny. 
When his sluggish mind was stirred by this yearning 
expectation — which was one of the few aspirations of his 
dull life — Silly Thomds would be known to hang about 
for hours, at the end of which time, if his thirst had not 
been appeased, he would wander away muttering unfavor- 
able opinions of mankind in general. 

“ What do I think of it ? ” echoed Mr. Broad. What 
do you think of it, Mr. Toogood ? ” 

If I was to say what I think of it,” replied Mr. Toogood, 

and I wouldn’t say it to everybody ” 

“ Not likely,” interposed Mr. Shortlands, 

“ I should say,” concluded Mr. Toogood, that I was 
shook.” 


76 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


So should I,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

‘‘ What’s shook you ? ” inquired Mr. Broad, with his 
head on one side and his legs apart. 

“ Ah,” said Mr. Shortlands, imitating the action of the 
last speaker, “ that’s a question, that is. What’s shook 
you ? ” 

“ It’s what the lawyer for the girl got out of Constable 
Thorough — I’m shook by that. Before then I’d made up 
my mind j after then I hadn’t.” 

“ My case,” observed Mr. Shortlands. 

“ Let’s argue it out,” said Mr. Broad. 

“ That’s a fair proposition,” said Mr. Shortlands, and, 
observing that Mr. Broad had put his thumbs in his waist- 
coat pocket, he did the same. 

“ It’s dry work here,” said Mr. Toogood. “ I’ve a notion 
we can do it better at the Waverley Arms.” 

“ Not at all a bad notion,” said Mr. Shortlands. “The 
girl’s lawyer stops there, I’m told.” 

“ We shall catch sight of him as he passes through,” said 
Mr. Broad. “ When a landlord’s in his own public his 
customers stands treat to him j when he meets his customers 
out he stands treat to them.” He looked at Mr. Short- 
lands, and Mr. Shortlands looked at him and shifted his 
legs uneasily. “ That’s the rule, I believe.” ’ 

“ Is it ? ” said Mr. Shortlands, for once not readily agree- 
ing with the last speaker. 

“ If there’s any doubt of it,” said Mr. Broad, “ we’ll put 
it to the vote.” He and Mr. Toogood held up their hands 
seriously ; it was not a matter to be merry over till the 
motion was carried. “ On the contrairey ? No, no, Mr. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


77 

Shortlands, you don’t mean to say you’re going to vote 
against it ? ” 

They were good customers of his, and Mr. Shortlands 
yielded, observing : 

‘‘ You don’t think I was going to, do you ? ” 

Then their faces relaxed, and they strolled in the 
direction of the Waverl^y Arms, Silly Thomas following in 
their wake, thirstily moving his lips. 


78 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE INTERVIEW. 

The prisoner and her defender were together. Close to 
the wall at one end of the room sat a gaoler, who, being a 
kindly-hearted man, had placed as great a distance as 
possible between him and his charge. Moreover, he en- 
deavored not to overhear what was being said, and in this 
effort of self-denial he partially succeeded. 

But few words had passed between Mr. Molesworth and 
the young girl, he entreating her to place confidence in 
him, and she replying, when she replied at all, in mono- 
syllables. He did not address her by name ; in the 
presence of a third party it would have been a betrayal of 
that part of her secret with which he was painfully familiar. 
In a low tone he continued to entreat her, and at length 
his appeals caused a revulsion of feeling with her. She ^ 
did not look at him, but he knew by a motion of her trem- 
bling hand that there was something she wished to say. 
He inclined his ear to her averted head. 

“ I cannot speak,” she whispered, with that man in the 
room.*^ 

Mr. Molesworth went to the man, and spoke earnestly 
to him. The man shook his head and said no ; it would 
be more than his place was worth. 

“ There is no one in the adjoining room,” said Mr. Moles- 
worth, pointing to a communicating door. Lock the 


I<OR THE DEFENCE. 


79 


door of this room, and take the key with you. No person 
can then get in, and if admission is imperatively demanded 
you can come forward and unlock the door. I don’t know 

what your place is worth, but ” 

He whispered something, and the man started. 

“ Do you mean it, honestly ? ” asked the gaoler. 

“ On my honor, as a gentleman,” replied Mr. Molesworth. 
Are you married ? ” 

The man nodded. 

“ Does your wife live near or far ? ” 

“ About a mile away.” 

“ Write her name and address in my pocket-book — here 
it is, and a pencil — and she shall have the money before 
ten o’clock to-morrow morning.” 

“ I’ll trust you, sir,” said the gaoler, and he went to the 
door and locked it, pocketing the key, and then retreated* 
to the small room adjoining. 

“ Now, my poor Madge,” said Mr. Molesworth, “ we are 
alone. Speak freely to me. There is no honor, no faith, 
no truth in the world, if I am not truly your friend. I 
swear it, by the memory of my dear mother ! ” 

He attempted to take her hand, but she shrunk from his 
touch, not in aversion but in shame and despair, and said. 
No, no ! ” From that moment he did not attempt to 
touch her. 

For a little while she was silent, nerving herself as it 
were for a supreme effort. 

Take courage,” he whispered ; “ time is flying.” 

I must ask you first,” she said, endeavoring to keep 
back her tears. “ Do you believe me guilty ? ” 

No, as Heaven is my judge ! ” 


8o 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Others do.” 

“ I will turn them before I have done. Your innocence 
shall be proclaimed. Trust me, believe in me. As I am 
a living man I will do what I say, what I bend all the 
energies of my mind, of my heart and soul, to do ! ” 

“ How good you are, how noble ! Oh, my poor heart ! 
what must you think of me who have treated you so ? ” 

If you could read my heart, Madge, you would be 
satisfied. It is filled with pity and undying love.” She 
shivered. ‘‘ But I must not speak of myself. I implore 
you not to delay.” 

“ Do they suspect who I am ? ” 

“They have a suspicion that you are not passing under 
your right name, but they do not know what it is. But 
they may discover at any moment. For that reason, if for 
no other — for the sake of the dear mother who is mourning 
you — ah, do not weep ! Think of what we have to do — 
for her sake, to whom the shock of a sudden and public 
disclosure would be too terrible, be candid with me ! ” 

“ I will tell you something — not all ; I dare not ; I have 
taken an oath, and I will not break it — you will not, you 
must not ask me his name ! ” 

“You shall be obeyed, Madge. If it is made known it 
shall not be through you, unless you so decide.” 

“ I came to the village to hide myself. It was not at his 
request, although he urged me to go to some place where 
I was not known, that I came here. The one wish in my 
heart was to be lost to all the world. I was ill and weak, 
and I believed I should not live long. I prayed for death.” 
“ My poor Madge ! ” 


POR THE DEFENCE. 


8i 

I used to lay my head on my pillow, and pray that I 
might not wake up, that they would come into my room 
and find me dead. Then all my misery and shame would 
be ended. It was wicked, it was sinful, but I did it. I could 
not help it. I am telling you the truth ; I will not hide 
everything from you. It was three days before I reached 
the village. I had never heard of it before. Everything 
was so still and quiet there that I thanked God for having 
directed my steps there. Without knowing where I was I 
walked on through the quiet paths till I came to Mrs. 
Tregartin’s cottage. You have heard how I succeeded in 
obtaining a shelter in her home.” 

“Yes, I have heard. Do not lose courage, Madge. I 
listen with my heart.” 

“ It was a happy home. She is a good woman, and has 
been a good friend to me. And see the trouble I have 
brought on them ! ” 

“ They do not look upon it as trouble to them. They 
love you, they sympathize with you ; their hearts are filled 
with kind thoughts for you.” 

“ I do not deserve their goodness. I deceived them, as 
I deceived everyone. I had a little money, and I reckoned 
how long it would last. I prayed for death, but the mercy 
was not g’*anted to me. It was ordained that I should live 
and be punished for my sin. When I saw that the future 
was before me, and that even among strangers I should 
have to face it, I wrote to him, telling him where I had 
found refuge. After a long delay he wrote to me, a cold, 
heartless letter, saying he would think over what I had 
said to him in my letter. He bade me destroy his letters, 


82 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


and I did so, never intending to keep them. Before that 
I had destroyed every piece of writing that might lead 
them to discover my true name, and everything I had that 
would betray me if it was found. I wrote a good many 
times to him, and then, and then — my baby came.” 

The last words were rather breathed than uttered, and 
a pause ensued, broken by Mr. Molesworth saying, in his 
kindest and most gentle voice ; 

“ Go on, dear Madge. Summon your strength. The 
letters you received were from him ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, and after my baby came, and I wrote more implor- 
ingly to him, telling him I had scarcely any money left, 
that man Mrs. Tregartin saw was sent to me.” 

As a messenger from him ? ” 

‘^Yes, he was his messenger. He was pleasant and 
smooth-spoken at first, and he said I was to write no more 
letters through the post, or it would be his master’s ruin, 
and mine would quickly follow. I met him by appointment 
in Brentingham Forest, and he showed me a tree with a 
hollow in it, and anything I wrote must be put in there, 
and I would find the answers there. The answers always 
were that I was to meet the man in the forest, and he would 
tell me his master’s wishes.” 

“ No one knew of these meetings ? ” 

“ No one but him and me. He never went to the village, 
and I do not know how he used to get to the forest and 
get away again without being seen, but he was very cunning 
and clever.” 

“ Did he bring you money ? ” 

“ No, he always promised he would do so, but he never 
brought any. He used to say that his master was in great 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 83 

trouble because of me, but I did not know how that could 
be. At last I became so frightened at the idea of being 
without a penny, and with baby to keep, that I spoke 
strongly one day to the man, more strongly than I ought 
to have done, perhaps. He was not angry, or at least he 
did not appear to be. All he said was, ‘ I will tell my 
master you have got a spirit, and that he must look out 
for himself.’ ” 

Tell me exactly, dear Madge, what it was you said to 
the man ? ” 

‘‘ I will, as near as I can, but I can hardly remember. I 
think I said that I should be forced, for the sake of the 
baby, to go to him, and that I could not bear the anxieties 
I was suffering much longer. Then Mrs. Tregartin spoke 
to me about registering baby, and I was more and more 
frightened. My conscience whispered to me that I must 
not think only of myself, that I must think of baby, and 
that I owed a duty to her. I wrote to him about the 
registration, and he sent me word that baby was to be 
registered in a false name, and that I would not have. 

‘ Shall I tell my master,’ he asked, ‘ in what name you will 
register her ? ' I said yes, that it would be in his master’s 
name. I did not know what the law was, and I was fright- 
ened at the idea of doing anything wrong. Then the man 
came with a proposition to me. It was a wicked, a horrible 
proposition. I was to give up baby to him, and never see 
her more, never to ask for her, to be a stranger to her all 
my life. You must believe me when I tell you I cannot 
remember what I said to this cruel, unnatural request. 
All I recollect is that I declared I would never, never con- 


84 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


sent to it, and that it was the wickedest thing I had ever 
heard. Then came that dreadful day, that dreadful day 
and night 1 Oh, merciful God ! I see the forest, I hear 
voices calling to me, the pitiless water is breaking over 
the rocks ! ” 

Hush, hush ! Calm yourself. You are speaking of the 
day on which Mrs. Tregartin and her family went to the 
Crystal Palace ? ” 

“ Yes, on the morning I had received a letter with only 
p, few words in it, saying I was to meet the man in Brent- 
ingham Forest, and that I was to be sure to bring baby 
with me. I was glad that Mrs. Tregartin was to be away 
from home, because I had made up my mind, if nothing 
was settled on that day, that I would go from her house 
altogether, and make my way to him somehow. I had the 
brooch that was found afterwards in Rocky Reaches, and 
I thought I might sell it for enough money to pay for the 
journey. On the night before Mrs. Tregartin and her family 
went to London she had told me that baby must be regis- 
tered the day after to-morrow, and I was frightened to wait 
any longer, and not do what the law would punish me for 
not doing. I did not put any faith in the man’s promises j 
he had deceived me so many times that I could not believe 
him any longer. It was dreadful weather when I left the 
cottage with baby, but I kept the rain from her, and think- 
ing I might never come back I locked the door of my 
room, and hung the key on the dresser. Mrs. Tregartin 
would understand from that, I thought, that I had gone 
away altogether. Let me think — let me think ! ” 

She passed her hand across her forehead, in the attempt 
to recall the events of that terrible time. 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


85 


‘‘ I may be able to assist you,” said Mr. Motesworth. 

At what hour of the day was the appointment with this 
man to be kept in Brentingham Forest ? 

At four in the afternoon.” 

At this point the gaoler put his head in at the door, and 
said : 

“ Will you be much longer, sir ? ” 

Not very long,” replied Mr. Molesworth, and then turn- 
ing to the unhappy girl, said : “ Try to remember everything 
that occurred from the hour you left Mrs. Tregartin’s 
cottage.” 


86 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER IX. 

CAN YOU FORGIVE ME ? ** 

It was raining hard, but I kept baby close to me, and 
she was covered up warm. There was no one about ; I 
did not meet a soul on the road ; I was glad of that ; I 
wanted no one to see me. I went to the meeting-place in 
the forest and waited. The man was not there, and I 
thought I was before my time. I had no watch, and the 
clock in Mrs. Tregartin’s kitchen had stopped. Every- 
thing was very still and dreary, and I leant against a tree, 
the branches of which were very thick, and where I got 
some shelter from the rain. I waited and waited, but no 
one came, and I was so anxious and despairing that 1 
think I must have worked myself into a kind of fever. I 
hardly know how to describe the next few minutes j I 
cannot separate the real from the unreal.” 

“ Do the best you can, Madge.” 

“ I will, I will. I began to sing to baby ; that was real, 
I am sure. She was stirring in her sleep, and I was afraid 
she would awake. I went on singing softly to her, though 
I had little heart for it. I sang some foolish, hopeless 
words about brighter days in store, sang them with a broken 
heart, trying to keep back my tears. Suddenly I heard, 
or fancied I heard, a voice. It was scarcely more than a 
whisper, but the words that were spoken were quite clear 
to me, and seemed to be a mocking answer to those I had 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


87 


been singing. ‘ Better if baby were dead/ the voice said : 
* then all your troubles would be over. You would be a 
free woman, and no one would know what has happened.’ 
I was dumb with horror. Was it a real voice or only my 
fancy ? I turned my head timidly, and as I did so I grew 
faint and dizzy and blind. A vapor seemed to float about 
my face, and as I sank to the ground I heard the same 
whispering voice uttering the same words : ‘ Better if baby 
were dead ; then all your troubles would be over. You 
would be a free woman, and no one would know what has 
happened.’ I do not know how long I remained in this 
state, unconscious to all that was passing around me, yet 
not unconscious to the dreadful whispering voice with its 
awful words. There were other fancies. In darkness and 
blindness I was stumbling over dead branches and leaves, 
over stones and precipices, through rushing waters that 
whispered and sang, amid clusters of trees that swayed 
and murmured. Then must have come a time of oblivion, 
for if I had remained very long in the state I have des- 
cribed nothing could have saved me from going mad. My 
throat is parched. Can you give me a little water ? ” 

There was a jug of water on a table, and Mr. Moles- 
worth poured some into a glass, and handed it to the poor 
girl. She drank it eagerly, and resumed : 

‘‘ It was dark when I woke. My mouth was burning, 
my eyes seemed to be on fire, and for a little while I could 
not realize where I was or what had happened. Gradually 
it came to me, and I recollected everything, from the time 
I left the cottage to my standing under the tree with 
baby listening to the awful whispering voice. But baby was 


88 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


not in my arms ; in my sleep I must have relaxed my 
hold, and she must have slipped from me. I felt around, 
the baby was not near me. In great terror I rose to my feet, 
and then discovered that I was no longer in Brentingham 
Forest, but on Rocky Reaches. How had I come there ? 
I had now a distinct recollection of falling into a faint in 
the forest, but none whatever — except for my fancies upon 
which I could place no reliance, for they seemed to be 
but fevered dreams — of my coming to Rocky Reaches. I 
stumbled about, looking in an agony of anxiety for baby, 
but I looked in vain. Then I thought that I must have 
left her in the forest, and walked to the Reaches alone in 
my sleep, so I made my way back, and searched everywhere 
among the trees, without seeing a sign of her. Then I 
returned to the sea and the rocks, my despair increasing 
till I became almost delirious, and between the Reaches 
and the forest I passed the day and part of the night, till 
Mr. Tregartin came and found me and carried me home.” 

“ You have no recollection whatever of walking volun- 
tarily from the forest to the Reaches ? ” 

“ None, none ! Only the fancy that at some time during 
my state of insensibility I was stumbling over rocks and 
sea and through a forest of trees.” 

“ And that journey you feel convinced was made only in 
your imagination ? ” 

“ How else could it have been made ? It i$ possible 
that, blind and sleeping as I was, and on a night so dark 
and dreary, I could have found my way? No, is i^not ; 
and yet I was there.” 

You have forgotten nothing ? You are sure of that ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


89 


“ I cannot be sure of anything. I have told you as far 
as I know. There were thoughts afterwards, awful thoughts 
that I have tried in vain to thrust from my mind.” 

“ Let me hear them, Madge ? ” 

I dare not — I dare not put them into words.” 

“ It will be best, dear. You have told me so much, tell 
me more. Everything is not so dark as you imagine.” 

“ She made a movement as though to take his hand, but 
she did not carry out her intention ; her own hand dropped 
to her side. 

“ My baby ? ” she whispered. 

“ I cannot say : I will not buoy you up with hopes that 
may prove false. I am groping in darkness, as you have 
been, but in the distance I see a light. Tell me of the 
thoughts which oppressed you.” 

“ It was this,” she said, so softly that he had to bend his 
head to catch her words. “ That whisper I fancied I heard 
in the forest while I was singing to baby about her being 
dead and all my troubles being over. The thought that came 
to me was that it was the voice .qf my own heart, and that 
I had done the deed. Tell me if.|s true. Can it be true? ” 

“ It is not true. The false accusation is born of your 
tortured spirit. Madge, dear, be comforted. It is not 
true ! ” 

Bless you for the assurance. It strengthens, it relieves 
me. Even if I had been mad it was impossible. I believe 
in an eternal God. I pray to Him for mercy and forgive- 
ness. I could not pray if I were guilty. I could not ! I 
could not ! ” 

Take comfort, my suffering angel. You are innocent, 
and I will prove you so.” 


90 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ And Petr, my baby ? Does she live, and shall I hold 
her in my arms again ? ” 

“ I do not know. There is some plot, Madge, to which 
you have fallen a victim. With God’s help, with suffering 
innocence on my side, I will unmask it. You would help 
me greatly if you would tell me the name of that man’s 
master.” 

“ I cannot. I have sworn a solemn oath never to reveal 
it. I should be burdening my soul with another crime.” 

“ Do not tremble j do not cry. Be calm, and answer 
me. The letter making the last appointment in the forest — 
you destroyed it as you destroyed the others ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ No doubt exists in your mind that the appointment was 
made on the day and at the hour you name ? ” 

“ It is certain. The words were written, and I read 

them. ” 

“ The other appointments that were made were kept by 
him ? ” 

“ All of them.” 

“ Punctually ? ” 

“ Yes, punctually, as near as I can tell.” 

“ His master was in fear that you would name baby after 
him ? ” 

“ He was. The man made me understand that.” 

“ Madge, if you had registered the name, would that not 
have been breaking your oath ? ” 

“ It would have been. I see that now ; I did not see it 

then. ” 

“ He was fearful of exposure ? ” But to this question 
the girl made no reply, and Mr. Molesworth proceeded : 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


91 


‘‘ You speak of a vapor floating about your face when you 
turned to see if any one had spoken ? ” 

“ I felt it.” 

It was strange and unusual ? ” 

“ Yes ; I had never felt anything like it before.” 

“ Even before you sank to the ground it made you 
faint ? ” 

“ Faint and dizzy. It took possession of my senses ; 
everything swam around me.” 

“ Have you ever thought that you might have been 
carried from the forest to the Reaches ? ” 

She gasped, and turned to him with parted lips. The 
question came to her as a revelation. 

I never thought of it.” 

“ But, certain as you are that you could not have walked 
from one place to the other, it is the only explanation that 
can account for your falling unconscious in the forest, and 
waking up on the rocks. Can you think of any other ? 

“ None, none ! ” 

“ When you awoke your mouth was burning, your eyes 
seemed to be on fire. I am recalling your own words, dear.” 

“ It is what I felt. I cannot describe my feelings in any 
other words.” 

' “ Traversing that long distance in your unconscious 

state, with your baby in your arms, you must have stumbled 
and fallen ? ” 

‘‘ I could not have kept my feet — no, I could not. There 
are parts of the forest where the branches hang low down. 
When you are awake it requires care.” 

‘‘ Madge, you would know the man again ? ” 


92 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


I could not mistake him.” 

Again the gaoler, from the inner room, came to the 
adjoining door. 

“ I cannot wait longer, sir.” 

“ One moment only,” said Mr. Molesworth, and the 
gaoler retreated. “ There is nothing more you can tell 
me, Madge.” 

Nothing more.” She raised her eyes timidly to his 
face. Is there hope ? ” 

“ There is hope. I have a theory, but I must not reveal 
it to you. There is hope \ keep that in your mind. Repeat 
it to yourself again and again, and let it comfort you. 
Providence has led me to this town to save you, to prove 
your innocence, to unmask the guilty. I will leave you 
now. Sleep well to-night, and think of me, pledged to set 
you free, with no shadow of crime on your spotless soul.” 

He rose to go, and she also rose and stood humbly 
before him. 

Suddenly she sank to her knees, and clasping her hands, 
murmured : 

“ Can you forgive me ? ” 

“ There is nothing to forgive,” he replied in a choked 
voice. “ You have been led away, deluded out of your 
true self awhile by false and specious words. Heaven 
forgive those who harbor an unkind thought towards you. 
I ask you only not to forget that I am to you what I have 
ever been. My heart is not changed ; it will never change.” 

She clasped her hands over her face, sobbing. And so 
he left her. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


93 


CHAPTER X. 

SILLY THOMAS DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF. 

At the bar of the Waverley Arms stood Mr. Shortlands, Mr. 
Broad, Mr. Toogood, and Silly Thomas, whose patience 
had been rewarded with a pewter pot filled to the brim. 
He had also begged a pipe of tobacco, and he was 
smoking it. Daft and penniless he was at that moment 
the happiest man for many a mile around. The truly 
happy state is hard to define, harder to arrive at ; but this 
man of weak wits was enjoying it, and could even have 
defined it if he had been put to the task. 

Having adjourned to the Waverley Arms for the purpose 
of arguing the matter out, they had applied themselves to 
the matter, and had replenished their glasses more than 
once. When Mr. Molesworth arrived at the hotel they 
had reached a crucial point. 

“ Here,” said Mr. Toogood, without the faintest idea 
that he in some sense resembled the Clown in “ Hamlet,” 
“ is a body large or small. It is a body, whether a man’s, 
or a woman’s, or a baby’s, makes no difference.” 

I couldn’t have stated it better myself,” said Mr. Short- 
lands, genially. 

His mind had been much relieved by the circumstance 
that he was not expected to stand all the drinks to his cus- 
tomers over a strange bar. 

“ A large body,” said Mr. Toogood, “ makes its own way 
to the water, and in it goes.” 


94 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Just so,” assented Mr. Shortlands. 

“ A small body is taken to the water, and in it is thrown. 
And, being in the water, it is all the same whether it is large 
or small.” 

Exactly,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

“How do you make that out?” asked Mr. Broad, by 
no means to remain passive. 

“ Ah,” said Mr. Shortlands, “ how do you make that 
out ? ” 

“ A solid body is a solid body,” said Mr. Toogood. 
“ Do you dispute that ? ” 

“ I don’t,” replied Mr. Broad. 

“ And I don’t,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

“ Do you dispute that the baby must have been tnrown 
in ? ” 

“ I would if I could,” said Mr. Broad. 

“ So would I,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

“ After that, the waves take it up. They wash in and 
out. How, we all know what the water is at Rocky 
Reaches, and what the rocks are like. Here’s a young 
woman, the prisoner at the bar, of slender build ” 

“ Of very slender build,” put in Mr. Shortlands. 

“ To look at her,” continued Mr. Toogood, “ she has 
about as much strength as a feather ” 

“ Not more,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

“ To reach a part of the sea,” pursued Mr. Toogood, 
‘‘ deep enough to drown the small solid body of her infant 
she would have to go out a goodish stretch, and to go out, 
mind you, over sharp rocks that would cut her boots and 
flesh to pieces, figuratively speaking. Could she have 
done it ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


95 


‘‘ That’s what I call putting it straight,” observed Mr. 
Shortlands. 

“You’ve got a wife, Mr. Toogood,” said Mr. Broad, 
musingly. 

“ What of that ? ” 

“ That’s what I should like to know,” said Mr. Short- 
lands. 

“A slender body,” said Mr. Broad. 

She is.” 

“ Mrs. Toogood’s strength is remarkable. She can lift 
a sack of flour, and that’s more than you can do, though 
you weigh half as much again.” 

“ My wife’s an exceptional body,” said Mr. Toogood. 

“ Which vve all agree to,” said Mr. Shortlands. 

“ We must go by rules,” said Mr. Toogood, emptying 
his glass and calling for another, an example instantly fol- 
lowed by Mr. Shortlands, “ not by exceptions. Mrs. Too- 
good comes of a strong family, and she’s tough and wiry. 
The prisoner at the bar is another sort altogether. You 
could blow her away.” Mr. Shortlands illustrated this by 
a light puff. “ What I say is, that she couldn’t have gone 
out far enough to reach deep water. That being the case, 
she must have placed the body in shallow water among the 
rocks. What is the consequence? It would have been 
washed in and out among the rocks, played with, figura- 
tively speaking, and would never have been carried out to 
sea.” 

“ If any case could be put clearer,” said Mr. Shortlands, 
“ I’d like to hear it put.” 

“ What I want to know,” said Mr. Broad, “ is what you 
make of all this ? ” 


96 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


stands to reason/’ replied Mr. Toogood, “ that the 
body would have been found among the rocks, with the 
hood and the socks. Not being found, where is it ? ” 

He looked up at the ceiling*, and Mr. Shortlands assisted 
him in the vague search. 

“ I deny the whole argument,” said Mr. Broad. 
“There’s no reason why it shouldn’t have been washed 
out to sea and never washed up again.” 

Before he made this remark the counsel for the defence 
had entered the bar, with the intention of going up to his 
private room, but hearing Mr. Toogood’s last words and 
Mr. Broad’s reply, he paused and listened, without joining 
the group. 

“ Even then, Mr. Broad,” said Mr. Toogood, “ history’s 
against you.” 

“ A general statement,” said Mr. Broad. “ Proves 
nothing.” 

“ Ask Silly Thomas,” said Mr. Toogood. “ He’s ' an 
authority.” 

The individual referred to pricked up his ears, and 
sucked in the last few drops from his pewter pot ; after 
doing which he turned the pot round and round and held 
it upside down. It was but just, if he was going to be 
called upon for evidence, that he should be rewarded for it. 

“ It’s empty,” he mumbled pathetically. “ Not a drop 
left to whet my whistle.” 

“Fillup again, miss,” said Mr. Toogood to the barmaid. 
“ Mild fourpenny, please.” 

With beaming smiles Silly Thomas took the first draught 
of his second pint, and felt himself in heaven again. He 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


97 


was not an authority in many matters, but his knowledge 
of the peculiarities and history of Rocky Reaches was 
admitted to be vast and profound. He had also, as will be 
seen, a special personal reason for being regarded as an 
authority in the matter under discussion. The counsel for 
the defence edged closer to the group, and called for a 
glass of sherry, which he did not touch. His voice 
attracted attention to him, and the three sensible men of 
the discussing group nudged each other, and cast furtive 
looks of curiosity and admiration at him. He nodded 
gravely and affably at them, and moved his glass near to 
theirs. 

“ I am interested in what you are saying,” he observed, 
as I am defending the poor girl. Will you do me the 
pleasure to drink with me ? ” 

Yes, they would, they said, and take it as an honor. 
In the twinkling of an eye their glasses were emptied and 
replenished. Silly Thomas’ pewter-pot being also refilled, 
and then they “ looked towards ” their entertainer, and 
paid their respects to him in liquor. 

“ Why is this man an authority on the subject you are 
speaking upon ? ” asked the counsel for the defence. 

“ Tellhim,Thomas,” said Mr. Broad, and sympathetically 
urged on by the other two, he bared his head, and pointed 
to a scar on a bald spot. 

“ D’ye see this slash ? ” 

Mr. Molesworth answered that he did. 

‘‘ It’s a mark of Rocky Reaches, I was drownded there, 
and washed up there, as a babe. A smallish babe I was, 
but they couldn’t drownd me, try their hardest.” 

7 


98 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“That accounts,” said Mr. Toogood aside to Mr. Moles- 
worth, “ for his want of wits. The rocks cut into his head, 
and washed them clean away.” He added aloud, for all 
the company to hear : “ But they couldn’t wash you away, 
Thomas.” 

No, no,” replied Silly Thomas, wagging his head j “ I 
knowed a trick. They don’t wash no one away.” 

■ “ How many have there been in your time ? ” enquired 
Mr. Toogood, prompting Silly Thomas for the general 
good. “You can count ’em on your fingers.” 

“ Aye, I’ve fingers enough. There’s been altogether, 
man and boy, five in my time. ’Tis a smallish village for 
five, but three come from afar, and that’s no blame to us.” 

“ Certainly not,” said Mr. Shortlands. “ The sea’s free 
to all.” 

“ ’T ought not to be,” said Silly Thomas resentfully \ 
“ they should seek their own. I can tell you the names. 
There’s Farmer Solomon ; bad crops crazed him, and he 
put an end to hisself in broad daylight. But he come up 
again, and was found dead, as large as life, among the 
rocks. He was number one ; I remember him as a boy ; 
he give me a whack with his hazel-stick, and cut my head 
open again. ‘ There’ll be a judgment come on you,’ I said, 
and it come to pass. There was Mr. Redruth, a banker 
from London ; he does it in the dark, and he’s found among 
the rocks. He was number two. He had money in his 
pocket, the foolish man. There was old Mother Polworthy. 
She’d lived too long, and yearned for kingdom come. She 
was number three, and she was found among the rocks. 
There was a sailor man, name never discovered. His skin 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


99 


was like the map of the world, pricked in with a pin. 
’Twas a sight ; I saw it with my own eyes, and he was 
number four. Though he’d sailed the seas, they wouldn’t 
keep him, and he was found among the rocks. There was 
Liddy Manifold’s babe ” 

“A case like the present,” interposed Mr. Broad, ad- 
dressing Mr, Molesworth confidentially. 

“ Liddy’s remembered well. A buxom lass come back 
home after running away. She was number five.” 

Her babe was,” corrected Mr. 'I'oogood. 

“ ’Tis all the same. Down she goes to the Reaches, and 
flings her babe like a stone into the sea. Back it came, 
and was found in the rocks. That’s the way of the sea at 
Rocky Reaches ; all the world might try, and all the 
world 'd come back again, and be found laying among the 
rocks. What does the Book say ? ‘ The sea shall give up 
its dead.’ ” 

Mr. Molesworth drew the other three men aside, leaving 
Silly Thomas at the bar filling his pipe from a packet of 
tobacco with which Mr. Molesworth had ordered him to 
be supplied. Thomas was more than happy, being con- 
scious that he had distinguished himself. He could not 
remember the time when he had made so long a speech 
and had been listened to so attentively ; neither could he 
remember the time when he had been so liberally treated 
as on the present occasion. 

“The man is weak-witted ? ” said Mr. Molesworth, 
putting his remark in the form of a question. 

All three nodded several times, and touched their fore- 
heads with their forefingers. 


loo 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“But you^ admit him to be an authority on the action of 
the waves at Rocky Reaches ? ” 

“ He*is an authority,” they answered. 

“ Is what he said true ? ” 

“ Every word of it.” 

“ Are those five cases of drowning there all that have 
occurred within your experience ? If I do not mistake, 
you are all from the village in which this lamentable occur- 
rence took place ? ” 

Yes, they answered, they all hailed from the village, and 
knew something of the prisoner, and a good deal of the 
Tregartins. The cases of drowning cited by Silly Thomas 
were all they knew of, and weak-witted as he was, he had 
described them correctly. Rocky Reaches was the one 
subject upon which he could be said to be sane, and in 
reference to which his word could be depended on. 

“ In every instance the body has been washed up ? 

Yes,” they replied, “ in every instance. The reason of 
it was this.” (It was Mr. Broad who was speaking now.) 
“ When the tide goes out there is so much obstruction 
from the rocks that it goes out slow ; the waves are broken 
up, and lose their strength. But when the tide comes in 
it comes with a rush, and seems to bring everything with 
it. That will account for solid bodies not being carried 
out too far, their progress seaward being necessarily slow, 
and for its easier for them to be brought back again.” 

“ The theory is a sound one,” said Mr. Molesworth. 
“ You are all kind-hearted and sensible men, and must feel 
anxious that justice should be done.” * 

“ I speak for the three of us,” said Mr. Broad. “ It is 
right and fair that justice should be done.” Mr. Toogood 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


loi 


and Mr. Shortlands nodded concurrence ; they felt flattered 
at being drawn into confidential conversation with so emi- 
nent a gentleman. “ We have daughters ourselves,” added 
Mr. Broad. 

“ It is an important piece of evidence,” said Mr. Moles- 
worth, ‘‘ this action of the tide on the spot where this 
lamentable event is supposed to have happened. I say 
supposed, because no body has been discovered, and a 
great mystery hangs round the case I am defending. You, 
as men of discrimination and sound judgment, must per- 
ceive this.” 

Yes, they answered, still more flattered, they perceived it. 
I shall call the man Thomas,” continued Mr. Moles- 
worth, but the fact of his being weak-witted will impair 
his testimony. You will not mind giving evidence in cor- 
roboration of the cases of drowning I have listened to? ” 
Not at all,” they said, and inwardly congratulated 
themselves when they were informed that they would be 
paid for their loss of time. 

Then Mr. Molesworth took down their names and 
addresses, and shook hands with them. Just as he parted 
from them a hand was laid on his shoulder, and, turning, 
he saw his friend Andrew Denver. 

have strange news for you, Dick,” Denver whispered 
quickly in his ear. 


102 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER XI. 

MR. TREGARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

They went swiftly upstairs together to Mr. Molesworth’s 
private room, and the lawyer, almost breathless with excite- 
ment, pushed the door to, and said : 

“ Now, Andrew ? ” 

But before his friend could speak there was a loud tapping 
on the door, and Mr. Molesworth called out impatiently : 

“ I am busy. I can see no one.” 

It’s me, sir.” 

It was Mr. Tregartin’s voice, and, without further hesi- 
tation, Mr. Molesworth admitted him. 

“ Be as quick as you can, Mr. Tregartin,” said Mr. 
Molesworth. “You can speak freely before my friend. 
You went to Brentingham Forest? ” 

“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Tregartin, “and straight to the 
Two Sisters tree. I looked into the hole, but saw no letter 
or paper there.” 

“ That is unfortunate. Did you search well and thor- 
oughly ? ” 

“ I’ll tell you how it was, sir. At first I didn’t search as 
I ought ; I looked down and saw nothing, and I put a stick 
in and stirred some rubbish about. Then I came away, 
and spent my time poking about the most likely places 
where a letter might have been put. I wanted to bring you 
something to help you and the poor lass on, but it didn’t 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


103 


seem likely I’d be able to. At last, after a couple of hours 
and more I gave it up, and had made up my mind to quit 
the forest when it came to me, sudden like, that there might 
be something in the hole that I’d overlooked. There was 
a lot of stuff at the bottom, to be sure, stones and twigs 
and that like. ‘ I’ll clear it out,’ said I to myself, and I 
went to the tree and set to work. Sure enough, sir, I found 
bits of paper that seemed to have had writing on ’em.” 

Yes, yes,” said Mr. Molesworth eagerly. “ You have 

brought them with you ? ” 

✓ 

“ I have, sir ; but I want to tell you everything first. 
Looking at the pieces I couldn’t make head or tail of what 
was written on ’em ; they’d been beaten down by the rub- 
bish, and soaked through with the rain, and it must have 
been a long time ago that they’d been put there, if ever 
they were put there at all. They might have been blown 
into the tree from somewhere else. They were so damp 
and shreddy that they almost came to pieces in my hand, 
so I gathered ’em together carefully and took ’em home, 
where I put ’em before the fire and dried ’em. Even then 
I couldn’t make anything out of ’em, and I’m afraid you 
won’t be able.” 

“ Where are they ? ” 

Here they are, sir ; there’s been writing on ’em sure 
enough at one time or other.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Tregartin ; I will examine them myself 
carefully.” He looked them over as he spoke, and placed 
them flat on the table ; the pieces had evidently once formed 
portion of a written document of some nature, but time 
and weather had so worn the characters that only the 


104 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


faintest tracings remained. Your eyes are better than 
mine, Andrew. Do you think that these fragments are 
part of a letter ? ” 

“ Undoubtedly,” said Andrew Denver. “ I can make 
out the words “implicit” and “ruin,” though the letters 
are not all discernible. Let me be a minute or two. I am 
a bit of an expert at this kind of thing.” 

They were silent while he was at work arranging and re- 
arranging the various pieces, holding them up to the light, 
and endeavoring to fit them in. His examination of one 
particular piece appeared to excite him somewhat, and he 
devoted a great deal of attention to it, his eyes glittering 
as if he had made a discovery of importance. At length 
he put it down, finding a proper place for it, and said : 

“ I think we need not trouble Mr. Tregartin to remain. 
It is likely he has done us a great service.” 

“ I’m glad to hear that,” said Mr. Tregartin. “ Shall I 
keep about, in case you want me for anything ? ” 

“ Perhaps you had better,” said Mr. Molesworth. 
“ Would a strong magnifying glass be of any assistance ? ” 
He asked this question of his friend, who answered : 

“ Not a bad idea, if you can get one.” 

“There’s an optician in the next street, Mr. Tregartin, 
where telescopes and microscopes are sold.” 

“ I know the shop, sir.” 

“ Take this order there, and bring back what is given to 
you. Here is a five pound note you can leave on deposit.” 

Mr. Tregartin departed on his errand. 

“ Have you really made a discovery, Andrew ? ” asked 
Mr. Molesworth. 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


loS 

I believe so, Dick, and it strengthens the strange news 
I have for you. Before I commence let me know how the 
case has proceeded to-day.” 

In as few words as possible the counsel for the defence 
related what had transpired in court up to the period of 
its adjournment, and also made his friend acquainted with 
the particulars of his interview with the accused girl. 
When he had finished Andrew Denver said : 

“ What were you talking about to those men in the bar 
downstairs when I came in? You all seemed to be very 
much interested in what was going on.” 

“ I was forgetting, said Mr. Molesworth, and he described 
the conversation that had taken place relating to the cases 
of persons who had been drowned at Rocky Reaches. 

Yes,” observed Andrew Denver, the evidence, in its 
way, may be of importance. I hear Mr. Tregartin’s foot- 
steps outside.” 

He opened the door, and took a parcel from Mr. Tre- 
gartin, and bade him wait below. The parcel contained a 
microscope and a very powerful magnifying glass. 

“This will suit our purpose, Dick,” said Mr. Denver. 
“ By Jove ! there is no mistake about the writing now, as 
much as there is of it. Now read.” 

With the aid of the magnifying glass Mr. Molesworth 
had no difficulty in reading as follows : 

.... “meet” .... “will tell y” . . , . “implic” 
. . . . “ uin” . . . . “exposure”. . . . “ life-long regr ” 

. . . . “ future ”....“ Harcou ” 

“ It will occupy more time than we have at our disposal,” 
said Mr. Denver, “ to fill up the intervening spaces, but, 


io6 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


there is sufficient here to prove the tenor of the letter, 
which was duly deposited in the place selected for secrecy, 
and by some accident was overlooked. It appoints a 
meeting in the forest with the man employed by the villain 
who betrayed the poor girl. The man will tell her his 
master’s wishes, which she is to implicitly obey, at the risk 
of ruin and exposure tc^ herself. If she refuses, it will 
cause her a life-long regret, and will destroy her future. 
Then comes the signature, ‘ Harcourt.’ ” 

“ His name at last ! ” exclaimed Mr. Molesworth. 

His name, and not his name, as you shall hear. By 
the way, Dick, where does the judge put up? ” 

“ Why do you ask ? ” inquired Mr. Molesworth, surprised 
at this sudden wandering from the subject. 

“ I have my reasons. Where? ” 

“ I heard he was stopping with some old friends at a 
place called Fairview.” 

“ Where is that ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Let us get back to the letter, Andrew.” 

“ Follow my lead, Dick; I know what I’m about. We’ll 
have Mr. Tregartin up ; he may be able to tell us where 
Fairview is.” He rang the bell, and sent for the man. 
“You are well acquainted with Mr. Justice Richbell? ” 

“ Yes, he and my father were old friends.” 

“ Has he a decent opinion of you ? ” 

“ I believe so, Andrew. These are singular questions 
you are putting to me.” 

“ They are all to the point, Dick.” The entrance of Mr. 
Tregartin interrupted them. “ Mr. Tregartin, do you know 
where Fairview is ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


107 


I do, sir. The judge is staying there.” 

“ So I understand. How far is it from here? ” 

“ Nigh upon three mile ; it’s out of the town.” 

“ You are acquainted with the road ? ” 

“ I know it well, sir. I’m called in sometimes to Fair- 
view to help gardening.” 

“ We shall want you to drive us there by-and-by. Before 
we go I wish to make sure that the judge is there. You 
can ascertain that for us ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, but it will take a matter of two hours, what 
with walking there and back, and getting to know what you 
want.” 

“You must drive or ride, whichever is the quickest, and 
you can do it within the hour, perhaps.” 

“ The landlord here’s got a smartish trotter, sir. I’ll 
drive if you’ve no objection, and I won’t be gone more than 
an hour.” 

“ Away with you, then. Find out for us whether the 
judge is at Fairview, and if so, whether it is certain he will 
remain there to-night. If he is dining and spending the 
evening elsewhere ascertain-where it is. You must not 
come back without the information. Do you think you 
will have any difficulty in obtaining it ? ” 

“ Not at all. I know the servants at Fairview, and they 
won’t mind obliging me. Depend upon me, sir.” 

Mr. Tregartin left the room rapidly, and they heard him 
clattering down the stairs. 

“ Good job we kept him,” said Mr. Denver. “ Where 
was I when he came in ? Oh, I asked you whether the j udge 
had a decent opinion of you. Dick, do you consider it good 
or bad fortune that he is trying this case ? ” 


io8 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ Bad,” ‘replied Mr. Molesworth, gloomily shaking his 
head ; “ decidedly bad.” 

“Why, Dick?” 

“ Surely you know. There isn’t a judge in England with 
whose character the public are more familiar. He has 
earned nicknames which many say he deserves, and opinions 
are held of him which plenty of people, good men and true, 
Andrew, are ready to justify. He is inflexible ; he is 
dominated by so stern a sense of duty in his administration 
of justice that the guilty may well tremble before him. On 
the bench he has no sympathy and no mercy ; many say 
he has no heart, but I do not agree with them.” 

“ He is influenced by no side issues ? ” 

“Absolutely by none. Whether the person tried is 
young and fair or old and wrinkled does not affect him in 
the slightest degree. The principle of justice is with him 
supreme, without regard to persons, and he is guided by it.” 

“ Shakespeare’s lines on mercy were not written for him 
evidently,” said Andrew Denver. “That it blesseth him 
that gives must be to his mind something of a heresy. With 
a knowledge of his stern character the innocent must 
tremble before him as well as the guilty ; circumstantial 
evidence is often at fault, and no man’s judgment is infal- 
lible, not even that of a Lord Chief Justice. You say that 
he and your father were on intimate terms. Does that 
imply you .and he often met privately ? ” 

“ No j my father died before he was made a judge ; 
since then I have seen very little of him privately. We 
have met professionally, but not often, and it is from 
what he has said to me on rare occasions, when he has 


FOR THE DEFENCE. loo 

spoken of my father, that I infer he has a decent opinion 
of me. Excuse my impatience, Andrew ; I can scarcely 
restrain it. Is this talk pertinent to the charge my poor 
Madge is being tried on ? " 

“It is, Dick ; so far as in me lies I am not wasting a 
word. There is a great deal to admire in the view you 
have presented of the character of Mr. Justice Richbell. 
When it comes home to one, as in this case of your poor 
girl, there is more to dread. And yet I seem to see that 
there is a chance of its turning to our advantage. Inflex- 
ible, you say. ‘The principle of justice is with him 
supreme.’ ” 

He repeated these words, previously uttered by his friend, 
with an air of intense thoughtfulness. 

“ Absolutely so,” said Mr. Molesworth. 

“As to his domestic affairs. What do you know of 
them ? ” 

“Very little.” 

“ Is his wife living ? ” 

“No, he is a widower.” 

“ What family has he ? ” 

“ Two children, I believe.” 

“ Not young children ? ” 

“ Oh no. His daughter, who is the younger of the two, 
is, if I am not mistaken, engaged to be married. I fancy 
I saw the announcement in one of the papers.” 

“You are not acquainted with the son ? ” 

“ I am not acquainted with either.” 

“As to these scraps of paper, Dick,” said Andrew 
Denver, pointing to them, “I want your professional 


no 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 

opinion. The writing is not distinctf^^llt experts in cali- 
graphy could give evidence upon it ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

‘‘ Evidence that might have weight ? 

“Yes.” 

Andrew Denver collected the pieces, writing a number 
in pencil on the back of each, and deposited them in an 
envelope, which he desired Mr. Molesworth to put in his 
pocket. 

“You will want them to-night,” he said, “when we go 
together to see Mr. Justice Richbell.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XII. 

STARTLING REVELATIONS. 

Mr. Molesworth stared at his friend. 

. Are you serious ? ” he asked. 

“ Quite serious.” 

Have you some mad notion un your head of making 
an appeal to his feelings ? If so, you may dismiss it.” 

“ I have no such notion. I set feelings entirely aside. 
I rely upon the inflexible principle of justice by which you 
tell me he is guided. Unfortunately there is the individual 
human view, by which most of us are influenced, and which 
may make Mr. Justice Richbell less noble than you believe 
him to be. If this is so, we must do without him. Dick, 
I am about to tell you of a discovery made in a very extra- 
ordinary way. Some persons would call it chance, some 
would call it fate, all would agree that it is a morsel of 
romance leading to a most important issue. For my part 
I do not pretend to judge, and in want of a better term I 
should set it down to coincidence. How many thousands 
upon thousands of small matters of ordinary life occur in 
a single city every hour of our existence, not one of which 
seems to have connection with any other ! Two of these 
happen to meet, and a coincidence is established, leading 
sometimes to a vital result. Upon such slight threads do 
tremendous issues hang. We seem to be at the mercy of 
an invisible power, which no forethought or cunning can 


112 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


struggle against successfully. Into this tragedy of your 
life and that of the poor girl you loved ” 

Mr. Molesworth interrupted him with the correction : 

“ The girl I love, Andrew.” 

“ Yes, dear old friend, I know your faithful nature ; I 
have had proof of it. Into this tragedy is introduced an 
element which savors of humor ; taken by itself, indeed, 
without reference to any other matter, it is distinctly comic. 
Do not look shocked ; I am no more inclined than you are 
for levity, and I am simply calling things by their proper 
names. You know where I commenced my inquiry, and 
to what end I directed it. You desired to trace the villain 
who has brought your poor girl to her present awful position, 
and though I cannot promise that hands shall be laid on 
him within the next few hours, I have discovered that 
which is of the gravest import to him and to her. It is 
different with his emissary ; him we shall capture — that is 
my belief — within the next two or three days, and when 
that is done some evidence may be forthcoming which may 
happily alter the aspect of the affair. How this discovery 
is led up to I am now about to relate. When I came to 
you last night the tlue was in my hands without my being 
aware of it. The occurrence which supplied this clue is of 
the kind I have described as comic, considered by itself. 
A simple matter, Dick. I was walking along, listening to 
the account of his proceedings given by one of our agents, 
when a woman, followed by a number of persons, passed 
us in the street. She had something in her arms which 
excited the mirth and curiosity of those who were following 
her, but she herself appeared to be in great distress. Her 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


way was ours, and we followed in her track without any 
distinct intention. She came to a chemist’s shop, which 
she entered, and as she did so I observed that the object 
she was carrying with such care was a monkey. Having 
nothing to do for a few minutes I lingered with the crowd 
of people, and heard the story of the woman’s distress. It 
appeared that the monkey was a favorite pet upon which 
she set great store ; they said it was a performing monkey 
which was exhibited at fairs by her and her husband. She 
was at home with the animal, her husband being absent, 
when she observed that the creature was in a state of un- 
usual excitement. The cause of it was this. The monkey 
had obtained possession of a good-sized-lump of pigtail 
tobacco, which the woman’s husband was in the habit of 
chewing, and was eating it as fast as he could get it down. 
The woman endeavored to wrest from the animal what was 
left of the tobacco, but the monkey frustrated her efforts, 
and succeeded in bolting the lot. Then the creature began 
to roll about in frantic delight, which, presently subsiding, 
left him in a helpless and deplorable condition of intoxica- 
tion. In fear that he had poisoned himself the woman 
snatched him up, and ran with him to the nearest chemist, 
who, while we were standing outside his shop, was adminis- 
tering emetics to the infatuated thief. All this interested 
me but very slightly, and the woman, somewhat consoled 
by the chemist’s assurances that the monkey was not per- 
manently injured, was issuing from the shop when a man 
came up and seized her arm. The man was her husband, 
a travelling showman I heard, and my attention was parti- 
cularly directed to his appearance because of his pushing 

8 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


1 14 

very roughly past me, and almost throwing me down. Well, 
I thought nothing more of the affair till the receipt of one 
of your telegrams this morning giving me a description of 
the man who had visited Mrs. Tregartin’s cottage, and who 
afterwards had several appointments with your poor girl in 
Brentingham Forest. You described a striking peculiarity 
in this man’s shoulders, that one.was higher than the other, 
and that he kept continually hitching' it up ; you said he 
had a hang-dog look, and you concluded with the words, 
‘ I have a strong impression that if this man is found and 
brought to me, I can make use of him to a good end. 
Spare no efforts to discover him.’ The moment I read 
your telegram my thoughts turned to the incident of the 
tobacco-chewing monkey and his master. There was the 
very man. One shoulder was higher than the other, he 
kept continually hitching it up, and he had an unmistake- 
ably hang-dog look. These resemblances, added to the 
fact that he was an undeniably common man, such a man 
as would be most likely to be employed as a tool, seemed 
to convince me that he was the person you were anxious to 
find, and I set to work at once, keeping myself in the back- 
ground, as being more likely to excite suspicion than an 
agent accustomed to such inquiries as I was making. Now, 
Dick, something else assisted me at this point, and this 
something else was a woman’s jealousy and anger. I have 
spoken of the woman who carried the monkey as the man’s 
wife ; she may or may not be his wife, but it is a fortunate 
circumstance that, this very morning, my odd-shouldered 
gentleman, after a desperate row with her about the 
monkey, and other things which were disturbing her mind, 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


115 

ran away from her. She is furious, naturally, and the 
temper she is in serves our turn. I have learned that for 
some time past she has been suspicious of him. He has 
been making secret trips, the object of which he has kept 
from her — this will account for his visits to Brentingham 
Forest — and her idea is, very naturally again, that he has 
taken a fancy to another woman, and has only been looking 
out for an opportunity to throw her over. How and by what 
artful means my agent obtained his information I did not 
inquire ; time was too precious to go into minor matters ; 
it is sufficient that we have obtained assistance that may 
be invaluable in tracking him down ; and that is now being 
done. Further particulars, gained from her through my 
agent, settle any doubt that may have existed as to his 
being the man we want. He has been doing some work 
for a gentleman which he has also kept to himself, refusing 
to give her the slightest satisfaction as to its nature ; and 
my clever agent wormed out of her that this gentleman’s 
name was Harcourt. You have the name, without its last 
two letters, on one of the pieces of paper in your pocket. 
Thus far, therefore, you see that we made some progress, 
but there is still something of the utmost importance 
behind. The woman let out that although the gentleman 
who was employing her husband — for so she calls him, , 
whether he is or not — gave his name as Harcourt, she was 
ready to bet, after the manners of her class, that the name 
is assumed. ‘ He wants to keep himself dark,’ the woman 
said, ‘ but I’ll make it hot for the pair of them. As I’m a 
living woman I’ll find out what he keeps that bottle of stuff 
about him for.’ ‘ What bottle of stuff ? ’ asks my insinuat- 


ii6 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


ing agent. ‘ I don’t know what it is,’ she replies. ‘All I 
know is that it takes a body’s senses away.’ ‘ How do you 
know that ? ’ my agent inquires. ‘ Why,’ cries the woman’ 
‘ he’s tried it on me, and sent me into a faint that lasted a 
good dozen hours ; and what he was doing all that time 
the Lord only knows ! But I’ll know, if I die for it ! 
When he’s playing his tricks on me he’s playing with edged 
tools.’ How does that agree, Dick, with the account your 
poor girl gives of her sensations in Brentingham Forest on 
the day she lost her child, of a vapor floating around her, 
and of her sinking to the ground in a state of unconscious- 
ness ? ” 

“ It tallies exactly,” said Mr. Molesworth. “ Andrew, I 
can never repay you for the service you have rendered 
me.” 

“Success will repay me, old fellow,” said Andrew 
Denver ; “ then you will be your old self again. It is a 
foul plot we are unmasking in which an innocent victim 
might have been sacrified j but we will save her, Dick, 
between us.” 

“ With God’s help we will,” said Mr. Molesworth solemnly, 
and after a pause, asked, “ What is now being done, 
Andrew ? ” 

“ My agents assisted by the furious woman — whose fury 
may subside at any moment, remember ; there is no de- 
pending upon some women’s moods — are on his track. 
Once they come up to him he will not escape their clutches. 
Willingly or unwillingly, lawfully or unlawfully, he will be 
dragged here, before the trial ends, I hope. Things look 
brighter, old fellow. There’s a trap just pulled up in the 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


117 

street.” He^went to the window. “It’s Mr. Tregartin 
come back. He has used good speed. Capital, capital ! ” 

He rubbed his hands, and threw the door open for Mr. 
Tregartin, who was running up the stairs. The man was 
flushed and hot, and spoke with panting breath. 

“The judge is at Fairview, gentlemen,” he said, “ and is 
not going out to-night. I got it from the servants, and they 
got it from the judge’s own man, who travels with him.” 

“ Can you tell us if there is a dinner-party at Fairview ? ” 
asked Andrew Denver. 

“ I didn’t ask, sir ; you didn’t tell me to ; but it doesn’t 
look as if there was one. The house seems quiet enough.” 

“ How about the horse, Tregartin ? ” asked Andrew 
Denver. “ Can it take the three of us to Fairview, or 
have you used it up ? ” 

“ It will take us all right, sir. A better trotter I never 
sat behind.” 

“ See to it,” said Andrew Denver. “ We shall be down 
in five or six minutes.” 

Mr. Tregartin sped away, and then Mr. Molesworth 
said ; 

“ You have not acquainted me with the object of our 
visit, Andrew.” 

“ I have left it to the last, Dick,” said Andrew Denver. 
“ All that I have told you relates to the wretched tool. On 
the road I will tell you about the master. This much you 
shall know before hand. It was not till after I had heard 
from my agent of the woman’s suspicion that the master’s 
name was assumed that a telegram reached me from an- 
other quarter in which inquiries were being prosecuted. 
She was right. His name is not Harcourt.” 


ii8 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ What is it ? ” asked Mr. Molesworth feverishly. 
Andrew Denver whispered two words in his friend’s ear. 
Good God 1 ” cried Mr. Molesworth. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


I19 


CHAPTER XIII. 

MR. JUSTICE RICHBELL. 

The description the counsel for the defence gave his friend 
Denver of the character of Mr. Justice Richbell was cor- 
rect. He was reputed to be the sternest and most inflexible 
judge in England, and although he occasionally exhibited 
a sympathetic interest in a witness who was giving evidence 
in a case he was trying, it was well known in legal circles 
that this expression of feeling was evoked by sentiment — 
such as his appreciation of a nervous person who was 
speaking truthfully for or agaipst the prisoner at the bar — 

d 

which had nothing whatever tc^ith his final summing up 
of the merits of the case. Ordinary spectators were likely 
to be deceived by his manner when he was so prompted, 
experienced lawyers never were. His directions to juries 
were marvels of clearness j his capacity for separating the 
chaff from the wheat was of the highest order ; his analyses 
of evidence, sweeping aside all that was worthless and 
bringing forward the most microscopic points which were 
valuable as testimony, compelled admiration even from 
those upon whom he was inflicting defeat. Never by any 
chance did he indulge in levity or in those small witticisms 
which convulse legal benches, to the amazement of dis- 
criminative readers of law reports in newspaper columns ; 
never by any chance did he allow himself to be led away 
by side issues which are frequently introduced to disguise 


120 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


the weakness of a case. Justice, justice, justice, and 
always justice — this was ever his guiding star in the per- 
formance of his solemn duties; justice without fear or 
favor ; justice without regard to consequences, to the ruin 
of lives but yesterday full of promise, to the breaking of 
tender hearts whose pulses were throbbing with agony at 
the peril of a sinner who was dear to them. He saw not 
the grey-haired mother who sat within a few feet of him, 
with her hands convulsively clasped, and her wild eyes 
fixed imploringly upon his passionless face ; he saw not 
the sweetheart or the wife in whose ears his cold, incisive 
words sounded the knell of earthly hope ; he saw only be- 
fore him the white-robed figure whose minister he was, and 
'to whom he had sworn to be faithful. It was said by many 
that he had no heart, and that he was one who could never 
have strayed from the straight path of duty and morals ; 
and, to all outward appearance, this was so ; but those who 
pronounced this opinion were nevertheless in error. And 
it is necessary here, while the counsel for the defence and 
Andrew Denver are speeding to FairvieV upon the strangest 
and most significant of errands, to refer briefly to certain 
episodes in the judge’s early and private life, which will 
throw some light upon his subsequent conduct in the case 
of the hapless girl whom Mr. Molesworth was defending. 

The judge was reared in a home which may fitly be 
described as a home without sunshine. His father was a 
man of whom it was reported that he was never known to 
smile. Strictly upright and just in his dealings with his 
fellow men, he instilled into his son the lessons by which 
his own life was guided. The lad's mother, originally more 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


121 


amenable to tenderer emotions, had gradually hardened 
into the likeness of her husband ; she followed him ser- 
vilely, gave up her judgment and her feelings to him, was 
led by him in every step she took, whether trivial or of 
importance, and degenerated into the mere echo of the 
man she had wedded. With this double example before 
him it is not to be wondered at that the young man took 
the color of his surroundings, and became what he was 
when he was called upon to administer justice without lean- 
ing or bias. But this immoveable view of his duty was also 
partly formed by an early experience which, had it been 
revealed to his father, would have shocked the stern mor- 
alist, and caused him to regard his offspring with scorn 
and horror. There was a secret chapter in young Rich- 
bell’s life with which the world was not acquainted, and 
which indeed was known to only one person, with the 
exception of those who played the principal parts therein. 

As Mr. Molesworth had informed Andrew Denver, his 
father and Mr. Richbell had been friends, the friendship 
between them being cemented while the young men were 
at college together. After they left college and the battle 
of life was commenced, they both formed an attachment 
for a beautiful girl of obscure origin. Beguiled by their 
passion, and with but little thought of the unwritten 
chapters to which it would lead one or both of them, they 
pursued her with their attentions, and made every endea- 
vor to win her love. This incident, common enough in 
the annals of every age, was in progress before either of 
the woers had thought seriously of settling down. Wild 
oats had to be sowed, and they were sowing them in the 
usual careless fashion. 


122 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


Fortunately for Mr. Molesworth he was vanquished in 
the contest ; unfortunately for Mr. Richbell he was the 
conqueror. The girl, flattered and dazzled by the atten- 
tions of a gentleman, gave her heart to him, and they lived 
together their secret life of dishonor. Then came a time 
when it became imperative that the illicit intimacy should 
be broken off. The success of the young lawyer’s career 
depended upon it. His ardor had cooled, his passionate 
love was gone, and in its place a spectre stood upon whose 
forehead was written Exposure and Disgrace. For this 
young woman was not entirely a milksop ; she was a crea- 
ture of some determination, gifted with a sense of right 
and wrong, a sense sharpened by the position in which she 
found herself. He proposed terms, and she, now a mother, 
refused to listen to them, and boldly demanded that the 
promise he had made to her should be fulfilled. What did 
it matter to her that he was high and she was low ? There 
were days when he had exalted her far above him, and to 
the promises he had made in those days she nailed her 
colors. But even had he been so inclined he could not, 
without fresh dishonor, have complied with her demand, 
for he had already, unknown to her, entered into an en- 
gagement with the lady who afterwards became his wife. 
Her family had great influence, and it was through this 
influence that he was retained on a celebrated case which 
was creating intense excitement in fashionable circles, and 
in which seduction was a prominent feature. In his 
unguarded moments he had spoken to his mistress, as all 
lovers do and will, of his ambition and his future; and 
when it came to her ears, through the newspapers, that he 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


123 


was retained upon this case, she took advantage of the 
•position, and reiterating her demand for marriage, threat- 
ened that she would expose him in the event of his refusal. 

How should he act in this dilemma ? How could he 
release himself from the compromising web he had spun 
around himself? His union with the lady to whom he was 
engaged would open up a clear avenue to the realization 
of his ambitious hopes, and the threat of exposure appalled 
him. Never in his life, before or since, was he so racked 
with fear and apprehension. His heart sank within him, 
and he endured a torture so keen and overpowering that it 
never faded from his memory. In his agonies of solitary 
communing he admitted the justice of the threat; his 
father’s teaching had not been lost upon him; his con- 
science smote him, sternly and mercilessly j but he felt 
it impossible to yield. 

Wait,” he wrote to her. 

“ I will not wait,” she wrote back to him. “ To-morrow 
I shall be in London, and you shall see me in court while 
you are pleading for justice to one who has been betrayed 
as you have betrayed me. I will rise and denounce you, 
and there are men who wijl take up my cause.” 

All that night he paced his chamber, groaning and 
clenching his hands and teeth, his limbs shaking as with 
palsy. For the first and only time in his life he flew to 
brandy for strength and comfort. The woman who was 
resolved upon revenge lived in the country, and had in- 
formed him that she was coming to London by an early 
morning train. The brandy he drank stupefied and ren- 
dered him insensible, and he awoke only in time to hurry 


124 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


to the court and make his appearance there at the proper 
hour. He had not a moment for breakfast, and could not 
have eaten had food been set before him. Plunging his 
head into cold water, and none the worse for the brandy 
he had drunk, he made a hurried toilet, and hastened to 
his duties — and, he feared, to his ruin, for his will was 
paralyzed with respect to the woman who was speeding to 
destroy him. 

He looked around the court, which was thronged with 
spectators ; some drawn by idle curiosty — frivolous women 
of fashion who run after any unhealthy excitement and are 
not ashamed to show their faces where scandalous dis- 
closures (tempting morsels to certain palates) are to be 
made ; some drawn by the growing reputation of the young 
advocate, who, it was whispered, was prepared with a 
speech and with arguments which would make him re- 
nowned in his profession. She whom he dreaded to see 
was not there, and, somewhat relieved, he rose to address 
the court. But ever and anon as he proceeded some 
resemblance in a face that flashed upon him from among 
the sea of faces caused him to falter, and it was only when 
a clearer scrutiny convinced him that he was mistaken that 
he regained his courage and self-possession. Ready to 
admire, those who listened to the masterly effort he was 
making ascribed his faltering to the emotions which over- 
powered him as he dwelt upon the wrongs his client had 
sustained at the hands of an infamous and titled seducer. 
So the day wore on, and when the court adjourned the 
young advocate’s speech was not finished, but every one 
was saying that his reputation was established. 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


125 


Yes, it was established, but a breath could blow it away ; 
at the simple appearance of the woman he had ruined it 
would shrivel up, and leave him to the mockery of the 
world. But she had not appeared. Why ? He inflicted 
further torture upon himself by inventing reasons for her 
delay. She was waiting till the last supreme moment, till 
all the resources of his intellect were exhausted in his 
indignant vindication of a woman who had been foully 
wronged as he had foully wronged another trusting woman. 

The parallel was damning ; out of his own mouth he 
would stand condemned ; he was pronouncing his own 
death sentence. 

It was due to his fertile and wonderful ingenuity that 
he should so refine his sufferings. The whole of the day 
he had not tasted food ; he had not glanced at a news- 
paper ; he had been so completely engrossed by his peril 
that he had avoided companionship, and those who would 
have drawn him into conversation supposed his mind to be 
thoroughly bent upon the celebrated case he was conduct- 
ing to its certain and successful issue, and left him in 
peace. He was wending his way gloomily to his chambers, 
when his friend, Mr. Molesworth, hurried up to him and 
seized his arm. 

“ What horrible news, Richbell ! What a sudden and 
frightful termination to the hopes of a young life ! ” * 

Mr. Richbell believed that he was referring to his own 
downfall. The blow had been struck then. All was known ; 
his career was blasted. His head drooped, he put his hands 
before his white face. 

“ You may well shudder,” continued Mr. Molesworth. 
“ Have you seen her ? ” 


126 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ No,” replied Mr. Richbell, in a choked voice. 

“ Come with me,” said Mr. Molesworth. 

He had no strength to resist ; in silence he accompanied 
his friend. They paused before a building, and entered it. 

“ There,” said Mr. Molesworth, pointing with his finger, 
and looking down Mr. Richbell saw the forms of the woman 
he had wronged and of the babe she had borne to him. 
They were dead, killed, with others, in a railway accident 
as she was travelling to London to make his name a bye- 
word and a reproach. Her purpose was foiled ; at the last 
moment, when he believed himself to be lost, he was saved ; 
the world, with the rewards of successful ambition, was at 
his feet — there, by the dead bodies of the woman and the 
child. 

“ Ah, Richbell,” said Mr. Molesworth sadly, I thank 
God the sin was not mine. I pity you from my heart — 
and pity you the more because of my firm convictitui that 
no man commits a wrong without, sooner or later, meeting 
with his punishment.” 

Mr. Richbell did not reply, but the words sank into his 
soul, and left their impress there ; the picture of the fair 
young girl and her child — his child — sank into his mind 
and remained, never, never to be effaced. In the solitude 
of his room that night he registered a solemn vow. His 
life henceforward should be without reproach ; he would 
set ever before him the principle of justice, and he would 
not deviate from it, even to obtain a great worldly advan- 
tage, by a hair’s breadth. He looked forward to the time 
when such a distinction as this he now enjoyed would be 
offered to him, and he swore that he would be just and 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 

V 


127 


true to his duty. On the following day he finished his 
address, and it was universally admitted that it was long 
since so powerful a speech had been heard in a court of 
justice. Litde did those who listened in admiration to the 
passionate and eloquent peroration guess that it was 
horror of his own sin that prompted his fiery denuncia- 
tion of the wretches who went about the world corrupting 
innocence and betraying the unsuspecting. It was his 
own soul he was piercing ; it was his own crime he was 
stigmatizing as one which earned for its perpetrator the 
execration of mankind. There are natures which would 
have been softened by the exquisite relief brought to their 
tortured hearts by the sudden and awful death of two 
wronged beings. It hardened Mr. Richbell’s nature. He 
would seek no excuse for himself by seeking one for other 
men who had sinned as he had sinned. It was by a miracle 
that he had escaped the world’s condemnation ; had he not 
so escaped it the verdict which would have been pro- 
nounced would have been a just verdict. As it was, he 
bore ever within him the punishment which Fate had 
averted. His friend’s words often recurred to him : “ No 
man commits a wrong without, sooner or later, meeting 
with his punishment.” The picture of the dead woman 
and her babe came to him as in a mist, which he never 
failed to pierce until he held the still form lying in space, 
above the heads of those who tronged the courts over 
which he presided. But up to the present day the pre- 
diction of his friend, long since passed away, remained 
Unfulfilled ; in its practical effect it was as intangible as 
the vision which was to haunt him to the last hour of his 
life. 


128 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

SANDY, THE JUDGE’s OWN MAN, STOPS THE WAY. 

The night was fine and clear as the two friends drove to 
Fairview. There was yet much to tell, and on the road 
Andrew Denver related to Mr. Molesworth all that he had 
himself discovered through his agents. It was a singular 
revelation, and a stranger would have been filled with 
wonder and curiosity as to the final development of the 
issues to which it led. Mr. Molesworth listened for the 
most part in silence to the relation, and his mind was busy 
upon the course it was advisable to pursue. So much 
depended upon the attitude assumed by Mr. Justice Rich- 
bell that he could not decide ; what that attitude would 
be remained to be seen. 

‘‘ The mystery is not cleared up, Dick,” said Andrew 
Denver ; “ but we hold the threads.” Mr. Molesworth 
nodded, and Denver continued : “ Will there be any dif- 
ficulty in obtaining an interview with the judge ? ” 

“ I cannot say,” replied Mr. Molesworth. “ Generally 
when he is engaged upon an important case he secludes 
himself until it is over. But I am resolved not to leave 
Fairview to-night without seeing him.” 

“ Mr. Tregartin mentioned something 'of the judge’s 
servant, who travels with him. I have heard that he is an 
eccentric.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


129 


“ The term may or may not be applicable. That he is 
a character is well known, and the judge places much 
dependence upon him. So much so that it will only be 
through him that our errand will not be fruitless.” 

You mean that when we express a desire to see Mr. 
Justice Richbell his servant will present himself ? ” 

“ Yes, and being in an absolutely confidential position 
he looks upon himself as his master’s keeper, and decides 
without reference whether he can or cannot be seen.” 

“ This is not an insuperable difficulty,” said Andrew 
Denver, taking out his purse and shaking it. 

“ You mistake. Sandy is not to be bribed.” 

“ That is the man’s name, is it ? When a Scotchman, 
which I presume Sandy to be, sets his back against a wall, 
it is a job to move him.” 

“ He is Scotch by descent, but speaks with the slightest 
of accents. It is not his tongue, but his appearance, that 
betrays his nationality.” 

“ Well, Dick, as we are determined to see the judge, 
and Sandy stops the way, we are two to one.” 

“ Sandy stands six feet two in his stockings, and has 
the strength of a giant.” 

Denver whistled. 

“ A formidable obstacle truly to men out of training, as 
we are. Have we much farther to go, Mr. Tregartin ? ” 

“ We shall be there in six or seven minutes, sir.” . 

Mr. Tregartin ! ” 

‘^Yes, sir?” 

“ Are your muscles in good condition ? ” 

Fairish, sir. I can take my own part.” 


130 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ To serve the young lady we are working for, you 
wouldn’t mind exercising them ? ” 

“ I’m ready and willing, sir, to do anything in reason,” 

‘‘ Good man ! There, Dick, we are three to one. What 
becomes of your giant now ? ” 

But Mr. Molesworth shook his hand. “ No, no, Andrew, 
we must find some other way. There must be no brawling. 
I shall devise a means. Sandy is as proud of his master’s 
reputation as the judge himself, and we will work him 
through that sentiment. The principal difficulty I see 
before me is that of delaying the progress of the trial till 
we get the two men your agents are after in court. We 
shall want the woman as well, most likely.” 

She shall be produced, Dick.” 

Here we* are, sir,” said Mr. Tregartin, pulling up at 
the gates of Fairview. “ Shall you want me inside, gen- 
tlemen ? ” 

“ No, Mr. Tregartin,” said the counsel for the defence. 
“ My friend was only joking with you.” 

They pulled the bell, and the gates were opened. Saying 
they had come to Mr. Justice Richbell upon business of 
importance they were conducted into the house. There 
another servant received their message, and departed to 
deliver it. Presently the judge’s man entered the room, 
a giant in stature, a Hercules in strength. Briefly Mr. 
Moleswortii announced their errand, and received the reply 
that his lordship could not be seen ; under no circum- 
stances was he to be disturbed. 

“ But it is of the utmost importance,” urged Mr. Moles- 
worth. “ We have driven from towm on purpose to see 
him.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 13I 

“ I cannot help it/’ said Sandy. “ No one disturbs him 
to-night. You must wait till morning.” 

“ We cannot do that.” 

“ It’s not my business whether you can or not. All that 
I know is you must.” 

Mr. Molesworth took out his card, and wrote a few 
words on the back. 

“ At least you can give his lordship my card.” 

“ I will give it to his lordship in the morning,” said 
Sandy. 

“ It is imperative that he should receive it to-night.” 

“ He shall not receive it to-night.” 

“ To-morrow will be too late.” Sandy shrugged his 
shoulders. “ You are a bold man,” said Mr. Molesworth, 

to stand in the way of justice.” 

“ You are a bolder man to say that to me,” retorted 
Sandy. “ But you cannot teach me my duty,” 

“ We have not come for that purpose. You are doubt- 
less acting in obedience to orders, and do^g what you 
consider right. At your peril deny us.” 

“ I do deny you.”, 

“ You have not looked at my card.” 

“ It is for his lordship to do that — in the morning.” 

“ You are committing a grave error,” said Mr. Moles- 
worth in his most impressive tone, “ and one which it may 
be impossible to repair if the night goes by without his 
lordship seeing us. I do not wish to appeal to the master 
of this house to take to his lordship the message I 
ask you to deliver, but I shall do so in the event of your 
persisting in your refusal. In. that case you will compel 


132 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


me to disclose to a stranger a matter which is for his ears 
alone, and which vitally affects the honor of his name.” 

“ No one can touch that,” said Sandy, flushing up ; but 
it was evident he was shaken by Mr. Molesworth’s 
earnestness. 

“ You are mistaken. You can see that we are gentle- 
men, and that I am not speaking lightly. I repeat that it 
is the honor of his lordship’s name that brings us here, 
that compels me to insist upon an interview without delay. 
Does it strike you that you are exceeding your duty in not 
leaving his lordship to decide whether he will grant us 
this interview. I tell you solemnly that we are here upon 
a matter of life or death.” 

Sandy was conquered : with a sour look he said that he 
would take the card to his lordship, but that he did not 
believe his master would receive the gentlemen. 

“ A tough customer,” remarked Andrew Denver, when 
Sandy had departed ; “ I was getting out of patience with 
him, and in spite of his six feet two felt greatly inclined to 
try conclusions with the giant.” 

“ You would have got the worst of it, Denver.” 

“ No doubt I should, but it would have been a satisfac- 
tion to have had it out with him. He’s a good old family 
watchdog for all that. Brace yourself up, Dick ; you’ve a 
serious task before you.’ 

Sandy returned with a face of amazement. 

“ His lordship will see you,” he said to Mr. Molesworth, 
“ but you must not keep him long. Not you, sir ” — to 
Andrew Denver — “ his lordship will see no strangers.” 

“ I’ll wait here for you, Dick,” said Denver, “ and 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


*33 

perhaps our friend will give me the pleasure of his com- 
pany after he has shown you to his lordship’s room.” 

“ Much obliged to you,” said Sandy, drily, “ but I keep 
my company to myself.” 

Upon entering the judge’s apartment Mr. Moles worth 
at once perceived that he was studying the case he was 
trying. The table was strewn with papers, from which he 
looked up when Mr. Molesworth appeared. 

“ My servant tells me, Mr. Molesworth,” he said, that 
he could not prevail upon you to put off your visit. You 
may go, Sandy ; I will ring when I want you.” 

“ It is with difficulty,” said Mr. Molesworth, “ that I 
have obtained access to you ; nothing but extreme urgency 
would have induced me to disturb you.” 

“ You wish to consult me ? ” 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“ Upon some urgent business. Of a private nature.” 

“ Scarcely, my lord. It is business vital to you and to 
me, and I do not see how it can be kept from the public 
ear.” 

Vital ? ” exclaimed Mr. Justice Richbell, leaning back 
in . his chair, the palms of his hands resting upon the table. 

And to me ? You are quite serious ? ” 

“ I am, indeed, my lord.” 

“ I should have preferred,” said Mr. Justice Richbell, 
after a slight pause, “ that you had waited till this trial was 
over.” 

“ I could not do that, my lord. It is of this trial I have 
to speak to you.” 

Mr. Justice Richbell sat upright in his chair, and fixed 
his stern eyes upon his visitor’s face. 


134 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ Out of court,” he said, ‘‘ I cannot allow you to speak 
to me of the trial. Surely you must know, engaged as you 
are in the case, that I can hold no conversation with you 
upon it.” 

The proceeding is strange and unusual,” said Mr. 
Molesworth, “ but your lordship must listen to me.” 

“ Must? ” exclaimed Mr. Justice Richbell. 

“ Must,” repeated Mr. Molesworth. 

The bell rope was not within reach of the judge’s hand, 
and he rose and stepped towards it. 

“ I beg your lordship not to ring,” said Mr. Molesworth. 

“ My servant informed me that you were troublesome,” 
said the judge, “ and I was only induced to receive you 
by what you wrote on the back of your card. You say 
that your errand is one of life or death, but had I been 
aware that it referred to the case I am trying, on no account 
would I have seen you. Mr. Molesworth, I must ask you 
to retire.” 

“ With respect, my lord, I cannot do so till you have 
heard what I have to say. Hold your hand, my lord, I 
beg. It is true that I come here in the name of justice, 
but we stand before each other as man to man. My desire 
is not to tamper with justice, but to assist it. You knew 
my father, my lord : he was your friend, and a man of 
honor, as I hope I am. It is not in my nature to descend 
to meanness or trickery. A sacred call is made to me, 
and I answer to it, as befits my duty. I ask you to do the 
same. In saying that my business is vital to you as well 
as to myself I speak the solemn truth. If I do not justify 
my words I will submit to any penalty, to any punishment 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


135 

your lordship may inflict upon me. You are not only a 
judge, my lord, you are a father.” 

“ Does this fact also,” asked the judge, “ enter into the 
business upon which you have come ? ” 

“ It does, my lord. It has a vital bearing upon it.” 

A direct bearing ? ” 

A direct bearing, my lord. For your sake, my lord, 
as my dear father’s friend, I would it had not — for your 
sake I would that another man, and not one who is closely 
related to you, should have to answer the charge I bring 
against him.” 

“ In as few words as possible,” said the judge, retreating 
a step, ‘^ without entering into details describe the nature 
of the communication you wish to make to me. I must 
know that much before I decide whether I shall listen to 
you or not.” 

I ask your lordship,” said Mr. Molesworth, “ to listen 
to a story of the past in which the honor of your name is 
involved.” 

A story of tne past in which the honor of his name was 
involved ! A vision of his early manhood rose before' him. 
He saw the phantom forms of a dead woman and her 
child — he beheld the resurrection of his sin. Was this man 
come to accuse him of the crime which had been so long 
hidden from the world? Sinking into the chair he said in 
a muffled voice : 

“ You may proceed, sir.” 


136 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE SINS OF THE FATHER. 

“ Time, my lord,” commenced Mr. Molesworth, “ is too 
valuable for me to lengthen unduly the story I have to 
relate. Such personal details as it is necessary to intro- 
duce shall be touched as lightly as possible, and I promise 
that no moralizing shall tax your lordship’s patience. It 
is a simple story, and in its initiatory phases not uncom- 
mon. Your lordship’s knowledge of the world will enable 
you to vouch for this, but even that knowledge will not 
prepare you for the subsequent black-hearted treachery 
which has placed a hapless, and in my belief innocent, 
young being in peril of her life. There lived together two 
years ago a mother and her only child, a young lady 
scarcely seventeen years of age. The mother was a widow, 
and she and her daughter comprised the whole of her 
family. Their means were very straitened, and they occu- 
pied apartments in a middle-class house in the north of 
London. Their name is Leycester. May I assume that 
they are introduced to your lordship now for the first time ? ” 

“ I presume that you have a reason for your question,” 
replied the judge. ‘‘It is the first time I have heard of 
these persons.” 

“ I shall ask no questions, my lord, and shall make no 
allusions, which do not bear directly upon my narrative. 
Mrs. Leycester’s husband was an artist of considerable 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


137 


reputation, but unwise speculations plunged him into diffi- 
culties, and when he died, being at the time but a compara- 
tively young man, all the fortune he left his wife produced 
less than ten shillings a week. This miserable pittance 
was supplemented by the labor of the widowed lady, who 
was so skilful in the art of coloring photographs that she 
succeeded in earning an additional fifty pounds a year. 
Upon their small income she and her daughter lived the 
life of uncomplaining privation which falls to the lot of 
many who are fitted to move in, and to adorn, a higher 
station. I must ask your lordship to believe that Mrs. 
and Miss Leycesterare ladies, in birth, education, manners, 
and feeling.” 

“ Until your story is finished,” said the judge, I accept 
without question the statements you make. At present I 
do not recognize the necessity of listening to it.” 

You will recognize the necessity, my lord, before I 
have done. At the period of the commencement of my 
story a great misfortune befell Mrs. Leycester. Her eye- 
sight failed her, and she was no longer able to pursue her 
avocation. The principal source of their income being 
thus cut off, it was imperative that something should be 
done to enable them to live. I must now introduce a gen- 
tleman to whom I shall give an assumed name, promising 
that, if it is your lordship’s wish, his proper name shall be 
revealed before I retire. Mr. Heath — a name, indeed, 
borne by a connection of his — was a barrister of no par- 
ticular repute, and not likely ever to make a noise in the 
world. He possesses an income sufficient to maintain a 
home in comfort, and to this circumstance may probably 


138 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


be ascribed his lack of practical ambition. Meeting Miss 
Leycester by chance, he fell in love with her, and, with 
honorable intention, paid his addresses to her. They were 
not unfavorably received, and although no absolute and 
definite engagement was entered into, he flattered himself 
that Miss Leycester returned his love. The young lady’s 
nature is one of great simplicity, which depends much 
upon others, which is led by others, and therefore, when 
it meets with guile, is prone to be misled. It was the in- 
fluence of her mother which prevented an engagement 
being ratified between her and Mr. Heath, but the elder 
lady’s motives could not be impugned. She regarded Mr. 
Heath with distinct favor, but she confided to him privately 
her impression that her daughter was too young and too in- 
experienced to bind herself to him. She made no secret 
of their circumstances, and it is a proof of her honesty 
and honor that she should place a bar in the way of a 
marriage which would have raised her immediately from 
poverty, and rendered her future life easy and comfortable. 

‘ My daughter has seen nothing of the world,’ she said to 
Mr. Heath, ‘ and very little of society. She has an affec- 
tion for you, which, narrow as her knowledge of life is, it 
may be imprudent and unfair to take advantage of. Wait 
a little. In a year or two she will be better able to judge 
whether she will be happy with you. I have had an ex- 
perience in which a too early marriage led a dear young 
friend to a life of misery, and I would wish to spare my 
child this risk. My daughter has an opportunity of 
obtaining a situation as a governess in a family of position 
in the country. Let her accept this situation ; let her live 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


139 


with this family say for two years. At the end of that 
time, if you are both of the same mind, I will freely and 
willingly give my consent to your union.’ This was the 
sense of her counsel to Mr. Heath,' and, although he was 
deeply and sincerely in love, he could not but recognize 
its wisdom. After a tender parting between him and Miss 
Leycester, and an undertaking, to which her mother con- 
sented, that they should correspond with each other, the 
young lady left her home to enter upon her situation and 
probation. And now, my lord, this chapter being closed, 
I come to another of a darker nature. For six months 
Miss Leycester and Mr. Heath corresponded regularly, 
and in her letters to him there was nothing to lead him to 
suspect that his hopes of happiness were destined to be 
blighted. Almost suddenly she ceased to write to him. 
He wrote to inquire the reason, and he received from her 
a few words in reply, to the effect that there must be an 
end to their correspondence. Agonized by this unexpected 
blow he asked for an explanation, but none was forthcom- 
ing. He went to her mother, but she could give him no 
further satisfaction than that what she feared had probably 
occurred, and that her daughter had transferred her affec- 
tions to another. There was, however, a mystery which he 
failed to pierce. It was evident to him that an incident 
had occurred which Miss Leycester was concealing from 
her mother. I will not dwell upon this phase of the matter, 
nor upon Mr. Heath’s sufferings. It* is sufficient to say 
that he was given to understand that the break between 
him and the lady he loved was final and irrevocable. He 
was compelled to accept it, and he went away, stricken 


140 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


with grief. After a lapse of eighteen months, in pursuance 
of a duty which devolved upon him, he made endeavors 
to ascertain the nature of the circumstances which had 
destroyed the hopes of his life, and it will preserve the 
sequence of the story if I introduce here what subse- 
quently came to his knowledge. It happened unfortu- 
nately that Miss Leycester made the acquaintance of a 
gentleman who presented himself to her in the name of 
Harcourt. How or by what means he gained an influence 
over her I cannot inform you; it is to Miss Leycester her- 
self now inexplicable, and any tender feelings she may 
have had for him were long since completely dispelled. 
My impression is ” 

The judge interrupted him. 

It will be best, Mr. Molesworth, to say nothing of 
your impressions. Confine yourself to facts.” 

“ I will do so, my lord, as far as possible ; but this 
impression of which I am about to speak leads directly to 
a fact which will presently be mentioned, and which it is 
my firm conviction has a direct bearing upon the peril in 
which Miss Leycester stands. My impression, then, is 
that Mr. Harcourt compassed the poor young lady's ruin — 
for to that he brought her — by the foulest of means. In- 
experienced and unprotected, blind to the danger which 
threatened her, deaf for a brief space — as too many mor- 
tals are at some period of their lives — to the whisperings 
of her heart and conscience, she fell a victim to the snare 
he laid for her. She concealed her shame from her mother’s 
knowledge ; she broke with the man who loved her hon- 
estly and truly ; and she fled from the place where she was 


POR THE DEFENCE, 


41 


knqwn, and sought refuge in a village of which she had 
never heard. There her baby was born, and there it was 
lost, and there she was arrested on the charge of murder. 
It happened that Mr. Heath was in the town in which she 
was to be tried. Seeing her, he recognized her, and under- 
took her defence.” 

He paused, and the judge glanced at a memorandum 
which, among others, lay before him. It read : “ In all 
probability being tried under an assumed name.” 

“ Mr. Heath is yourself,” he said. 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“ And the true name of the prisoner is Leycester.” 

“ That is so.” 

“ Have you finished ? ” 

“ By no means, my lord. Were this the extent of my 
knowledge and the end of the story, I should not have 
troubled your lordship. I have yet to justify my intrusion, 
and you have yet to learn who Mr. Harcourt is.” 

The judge looked for a moment at the earnest man, and 
then lowered his eyes. 

“ Proceed, Mr. Molesworth.” 

“ When I undertook Miss Leycester’s defence I felt that 
there was a mystery, which it was important, vitally im- 
portant, should be unravelled. Happily I had with me a 
friend, my closest and best friend, by name Denver, and as 
I could obtain no assistance whatever from the unfortunate 
lady, I enlisted him in her service and mine. Of his dis- 
coveries — do not interrupt me, my lord ; they touch you 
too nearly — I will speak presently. I must first say some- 
thing of what I learnt this afternoon in an interview with 


142 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


the unfortunate lady, during which I prevailed upon her 
to confide in me. It has been proved in court that after 
her child was born a man came to Mr. Tregartin’s cottage 
during the woman’s absence, and had some speech with 
Miss Leycester. This man was an emissary of Mr. Har- 
court. They met in Brentingham Forest on several occa- 
sions, and as we know now a correspondence was carried 
on by means of the Two Sisters’ tree, no mention being 
made of the name of the person with whom she corres- 
ponded. I am in a position to prove that this man is 
Mr. Harcourt. Unless there is a miscarriage of justice he 
will be produced in court.” 

“Why should there be any miscarriage of justice, Mr. 
Molesworth ? ” 

“ With your permission, my lord, I will leave that ques- 
tion unanswered. I would fain elicit your lordship’s 
opinion upon the necessity of this gentleman being pro- 
duced and examined.” 

“Undoubtedly necessary, and probably in the interests 
of the prisoner advisable.” 

“ His emissary, also, must be produced. We are now 
tracking these men down. I will direct your lordship’s 
attention to the particulars I gained from Miss Leycester 
in my interview this afternoon.” 

“ A moment, Mr. Molesworth. Are you not violating 
your duty, are you not encroaching upon mine, and are 
you not also taking a monstrous advantage of your in- 
trusion here, in venturing to speak of this to me out of 
court ? ” 

“ I am guilty of none of these derelictions, my lord. 
The last interview which took place between Miss Leycester 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


*43 


and Mr. Harcourt’s emissary in Brentingham Forest 
occurred on the day Mr. Tregartin took his family to Lon- 
don to spend a day of pleasure, on the day that the child 
disappeared. There had been previous endeavors made 
by Mr. Harcourt, through his emissary, to induce Miss 
Leycester to give up her child, but these endeavors failed, 
and it was known to Mr. Harcourt that it was her inten- 
tion to register the child’s birth in his name. Why, under 
the circumstances — as yoiir lordship will admit when you 
learn the facts — he should have been disturbed by this 
intention I cannot say, except that it opened up a proba- 
bility of his real name being brought to light through the 
false name he had assumed. Miss Leycester had received 
a note instructing her to meet Mr. Harcourt’s emissary in 
the forest on that day, and she was particularly enjoined 
to bring her child with her. We know that the weather 
was very bad on that day, and with rain and wind beating 
upon her the poor lady went with her child to the place of 
appointment. No one was there, and though she waited 
for some time there was no appearance of the man she 
expected to see. Pardon me for saying that I cannot con- 
ceive a more heart-breaking position than the one in which 
she was placed for a lady of refined and tender feeling. 
To keep herself in heart she began to sing some words of 
a song about brighter days to come, the tears running down 
her face the while, when suddenly, as she describes it, she 

fancied she heard a whispering voice behind her ” 

“ Can you not spare me this, Mr. Molesworth ? It will 
find a more suitable place in your speech in court. The 
prisoner’s mind was unbalanced. She was distraught.” 


*44 


i^oR thr defence. 


“That is not my opinion, my lord. To me the circum- 
stance points to a direct plot, clumsy it may be, and one 
that would certainly have failed if practised upon any but 
a sensitive, helpless lady, in a desperate position, but none 
the less a plot cunningly and villainously devised, and in 
which Mr. Harcourt had a hand.” 

The judge made an impatient movement, as though he 
would have spoken ; but some inward apprehension was 
more powerful than his impatience, and he refrained. 

“The whispered words,” continued Mr. Molesworth, 
“ were, ‘ Better if baby were dead ; then all your troubles 
would be over ; you would be a free woman, and no one 
would know what has happened.’ There are instances of 
hallucination, my lord, in which it is quite possible that a 
person might fancy such unspoken words uttered by human 
voice, or others to suit the particular position, generally a 
position of peril, in which he stands. But to make this 
delusion perfect it is absolutely necessary tjiat the person 
who so imposes upon himself must have an inbred desire 
for the result. The wish must be father to the thought. 
Such a presumption is impossible in the case of Miss Ley- 
cester. She is a tender-hearted, delicate-minded lady. If 
there is one piece of evidence more strongly brought out 
than another by the witnesses who have been examined, it 
is that she is by instinct and nature one of the kindest 
beings on earth, one who would not, even through care- 
lessness, harm a defenceless living creature. Hence I argue 
that in this whispered voice in the forest, and in the words 
it spoke, there was no hallucination, there was no delusion. 
The words were uttered by human tongue, and she heard 


POR THE DEFENCE. 


them. When Mr. Harcourt’s emissary is produced in 
court I hope to drag the admission from his cowardly lips. 
Mark, my lord, what followed. Upon hearing the awful 
suggestion Miss Leycester turned her head, and the moment 
she did so she grew faint and dizzy. A vapor floated be- 
fore her face, and she sank to the ground, in a state of 
insensibility, and even then, in the brief space of time that 
elapsed before consciousness entirely deserted her, she 
heard the words repeated. My lord, she became uncon- 
scious in Brentingham Forest. When she awoke she was 
on Rocky Reaches, and her baby was gone. To have 
traversed the distance between the forest and the sea she 
must have travelled with her eyes shut over'two or three 
miles of most difficult road. She must have done so in the 
night — and such a night ! Is it reasonable to suppose that 
she could have done tliis ? No, my lord, she neither could 
do it nor did it. She was carried there. The whispered 
voice, the sense-stifling vapor, the conveying of her from 
one spot to the other, all belonged to a cunning scheme 
which was successfully carried out — a cunning, devilish 
scheme to destroy an innocent life.” 

“ Does it occur to you,” said the judge, that you have 
wandered from your statement of facts, to which you 
promised to confine yourself, and have launched into 
arguments which have nothing to do with facts.” 

“Only to. a slight extent have I transgressed, my lord. 
In the argument I have used there is a distinct connection 
with a fact I shall bring to your notice. The wife, or para- 
mour, of Mr. Harcourt’s emissary is now in the hands of 
the agents employed by my friend Mr. Denver, and she is 

10 


146 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


leading them to the man himself. She has testified that 
he carries about him a bottle of ‘ stuff/ as she calls it — 
chloroform, most likely — that takes people’s senses away, 
and she is determined, she says, to find out what use he 
makes of it. He has tried it upon her, she declares, and 
sent her into a faint that rendered her insensible for a 
dozen hours. This statement makes presumptive proof 
positive, and goes far to establish my theory. And now, 
my lord, I approach a branch of this shocking affair which 
affects yourself. The ' necessity of the revelation I have 
to make is forced upon me, and deeply do I regret it. You 
have admitted the advisability of producing Mr. Harcourt 
as a witness. We are after him — having only this day dis- 
covered his true name — but he may give us the slip. It is 
in your power to assist us in producing him. With your 
help he cannot escape us.” 

“You speak in enigmas, Mr. Molesworth,” said the 
judge, and a stranger would have noticed that his voice 
was tremulous ; and indeed it was, for a vague sense of 
impending evil was upon him. “ You asserted that justice 
demanded that I should listen to what you had to say, and 
I have done so. I express no opinion as to whether you 
were warranted in making the statement. The story you 
have related is a sad one, but its truth, and the validity of 
your arguments, require to be substantiated by direct evi- 
dence. Justice will await that evidence before it speaks. 
That much will I say, and no more. But you have ad- 
dressed me not only as a judge, but as a father, and I do 
not disguise from you that this appeal had its weight with 
me. From another man I should have disregarded it, but 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


147 


the memory of my friendship with your father turned the 
balance in your favor. I understand that you have a 
revelation to make to me which will give me pain. Am I 
correct?” 

“ Unhappily, my lord, you are.” 

“ This revelation is in some way connected with the Mr. 
Harcourt you have spoken of? ” 

“ It is, my lord,” said Mr. Molesworth sadly. 

“ And is connected also with me ? ” 

Yes, my lord.” 

“ Make your revelation, Mr. Molesworth.” 

My lord, Mr. Harcourt is your son.” 


148 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER XVI. 

MR. JUSTICE RICHBELL EXAMINES THE TWO LETTERS. 

A COLD perspiration bathed the judge’s forehead, and his 
face grew white. In pity for him Mr. Molesworth turned 
his head. 

A silence of several minutes ensued, during which Mr. 
Molesworth stood immoveable, with averted face. The 
judge, looking before him, did not see the form of his 
visitor. In the space upon which he gazed appeared the 
dim outlines of two dread figures, those of a dead woman 
with a dead baby in her arms. Gradually they took distinct 
shape, and he saw them clearly. The woman’s eyes opened, 
and rested upon him, and he, now, heard words that were 
not spoken by human voice : “ No man commits a wrong 
without, sooner or later, meeting with his punishment.” 

Yes, his punishment had come. It had waited all these 
years, to fall upon him with crushing weight. The sin of 
the father was to be punished through the son. Beyond 
the shapes of the dead woman and her child the spectral 
white figure of justice stood in the air. Erect and calm 
she stood, the scales in her hands, and he, the judge, was 
called upon to pronounce sentence. 

The silence lasted so long that it became painful, and 
the consciousness of this forced itself upon him. He 
passed his hands across his eyes, and essayed to speak. 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


149 

but his voice failed him ; it was only after a supreme effort 
that he succeeded in controlling it. 

“ Mr. Molesworth? ” 

“ My lord.” 

“ Are you aware of the gravity of the accusation you 
have made ? ” 

“ I am painfully aware of it, my lord.” 

“ You love the woman you are defending ? ” 

With all the strength of my soul, my lord, as deeply 
and tenderly now as I have ever done.” 

‘‘ A sentiment of this intense nature is apt to cloud one’s 
intellect, to warp one’s judgment.” 

‘‘It does not warp mine, my lord. If my accusation is 
false it will recoil upon myself and upon the lady I am 
defending. What possible good can befall me in making 
this gentleman your son ? The issue that is being tried 
would be fatally injured by it. I would, my lord, he were 
another man.” 

“ In any case, sir, justice must be done.” 

His voice had gathered strength ; he spoke in firmer 
accents. 

“ I expected no less, my lord.” 

“ But I am bound to consider this matter from every 
point of view that presents itself.” 

“ Undoubtedly, my lord, bearing in mind always the 
demand of justice.” 

“ Do you think, sir, I need to be reminded of this ? ” 

“ Pardon me, my lord ; I love the ladv who is upon her 
trial for her life.” 

“It will be more manly, sir, to answer my question.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


ISO 

I am certain, my lord, that you do not need to be 
reminded of it.” 

“ There is the possibility of your being mistaken.^’ 

“ There is a possibility, my* lord, but I fear the proof 
will bear me out.” 

‘‘ Ah, the proof. I understand that the information 
reached you through your agents.” 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“ How ? By what means ? In what shape ? ” 

“ A telegram was received a few hours ago by my friend 
Mr. Denver, acquainting him with the discovery.” 

“A telegram ! ” said the judge, with a -deep sigh of relief. 

Is that all ? ” 

“ No, my lord, it is not all.” 

‘‘ There is something more to disclose ? ” 

“ There is, my lord. I can place in your lordship’s hands 
the means of verifying or falsifying the information.” 

“ Explain yourself.” 

“It came out in evidence, my lord, that a correspond- 
ence was carried on between Miss Leycester and the gentle- 
man she knows as Mr. Harcourt, and that the letters were 
placed in the Two Sisters’ tree in Brentingham Forest. 
When this evidence was given in court I sent Mr. Tre- 
gartin immediately to the forest, upon the chance of his 
finding some letter or scrap of writing in the tree which by 
accident had been overlooked. The result of his search 
converted my supposition into a certainty. The torn 
fragments of such a letter were found beneath some stones 
in the cavity of the tree. He brought them to me, and they 
have been pieced together by my friend. The writing is 


FOR THE DEFENCE. ' 15 1 

exceedingly faint, but I have with me a strong magnifying 
glass which will enable your lordship to decipher the words, 
and to ascertain whether the handwriting is that of your 
son.” 

“ Give me the letter." 

It is in the possession of my friend, who accompanied 
me here, and who is waiting for me in another room. Shall 
I bring him to your lordship ? ” 

No, I prefer not to see him. My business at present 
is with you, and you alone. Am I acquainted with your 
friend, or he with me ? ” 

“ No, my lord. I do not suppose you ever heard of him 
till this moment. He knows your lordship, as all men do, 
through repute.” 

Go to him, and bring me the letter. A moment. Has 
the prisoner any knowledge or suspicion that the Mr. 
Harcourt whd ” — he paused, choosing his words slowly — 

who, if your story, or hers, is true, presented himself to 
her in that name, is my son ? " 

I can answer almost with certainty, no, my lord. The 
information only reached me, through my friend, after my 
interview with her this afternoon.” 

“ Go, if you please, and bring the letter to me.” 

Mr. Molesworth placed the magnifying-glass on the table, 
and left the room. While he was absent the judge took 
from his pocket a letter addressed to him by his son, and 
gazed upon the writing. It was clear and firm, and there 
was small reason for his applying the magnifying-glass to 
the characters ; but he did it probably to test its power. 

Mr. Molesworth returned and placed before the judge 
the letter which had been found by Mr. Tregartin. By 


152 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


this time the judge had schooled himself to absolute calm- 
ness, and there was not a tremor in his hands and face as 
he examined the torn fragments which, in their mute testi- 
mony, were to damn or clear his name. His examination 
lasted a considerable time, and he made a careful and 
exhaustive comparison of the faded writing with the fresher 
writing of the letter he had taken from his pocket. 

He touched the bell. 

“ You will require this mutilated letter, Mr. Moles- 
worth ? ” 

Yes, my lord.” 

The judge rose. 

Mr. Molesworth, my son will appear in court. Good- 
night.” 

“ Good-night, my lord.” . 

As he left the room the herculean Sandy entered it. 
While the judge was giving certain instructions to his 
servant Mr. Tregartin was driving Mr. Molesworth and Mr. 
Denver back to the Waverley Arms. 


I^OR THE DEFENCE. 


*53 


CHAPTER XVII. 

MR. NORMAN RICHBELL IS BROUGHT TO BAY. 

Mr. Norman Richbell, son of the judge, gentleman born, 
and scamp by nature, was playing billiards in a fashionable 
hotel some sixty miles distant from the town in which the 
trial was taking place. He had for company some choice 
spirits of a lower grade by birth, but superior to him in all 
other respects, notwithstanding the fact that there were 
two or three blacklegs among them. By force of compa- 
rison there may be much virtue in it blackleg, who, in 
certain company, may hold high rank. How it came to 
pass that there was lacking in Mr. Norman Richbell those 
moral qualities which entitle the possessor to the respect 
of men and women in whom conscience is not an unknown 
quantity, is too abstruse a question to be here discussed 
at any length. There are inherited taints of the blood 
which, when the doctrine of responsibility for human action 
is justly determined, may entitle the inheritor to pity ; but 
even then no pity will be extended to the coward who, for 
his own selfish ends and personal safety, refrains from 
stretching forth his hand to save an innocent being whom 
he has deliberately doomed to destruction. This was the 
unpardonable crime which Mr. Norman Richbell was 
perpetrating. 

He was by no means easy in his mind. Accomplished 
billiard-player as he was, his hands trembled as he struck 


154 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


the balls. He was playing for money, and the blacklegs 
were pocketing his gold. This made him savage, and he 
cursed the balls, the marker, the men who were winning, 
and the world in general. Guilty persons frequently seek 
to minimize their sins by making a sacrificial scapegoat of 
the world. 

“Curse the luck !” he exclaimed, as he made a stroke 
which lost him the game. 

“ Hard lines, sir,” said his opponent. “ Set them up 
again, marker.” 

They were playing pyramids, a pound a ball, with bets 
made all round, and the biter was being bit. The worst, 
or the best, of it was, that he had but a few sovereigns left 
in his purse. He had drawn heavily upon his father lately, 
and had been warned that there would be no further advances 
for some time to come. Mr. Justice Richbell had no idea 
that his son was a confirmed gambler as well as a heartless 
rouE The hypocrite was a past-master in the art of deceit, 
and until now had been successful in masking his true 
character. It was important that he should win the game 
which was just commenced. He had looked anxiously in 
the evening papers for a report of the trial, but no mention 
was*made of it. Tortured by suspense and fear, he had 
resolved to run across to Paris for a few days. He did not 
believe that he was in any danger, for he had been most 
careful in concealing his real name and position from the 
poor girl he had betrayed. The plan he had conceived to 
save himself from possible exposure had miscarried, it is 
true, but that was not his fault ; it was the fault of the 
miscreant he had employed, who had chosen to misconstrue 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


155 


his instructions and to conduct them to a tragic end. Was 
he to blame for this miscarriage ? No ; it was a piece of 
bad luck for which he was not responsible. It was not to 
be supposed that he would come forward and ruin all his 
prospects in life because his instructions had not been 
properly carried out. A mistake had been made. Well, 
he would not bear the brunt of it. If somebody was to 
suffer, it should not be he. After all, she had only herself 
to thank for it. She should not have been so obstinate. 
She should have given up the child as he wished, as he 
commanded her to do. She had disobeyed him, and she 
must take the consequences. Think of the suffering she 
was inflicting upon him — this torture of suspense and fear 
was her doing. If he felt remorse, was she not the cause 
of it ? 

It is by such-like false and cruel casuistry that sinners 
seek to justify themselves. 

A trip to Paris, with pleasure in view, costs money. 
Mr. Norman Richbell had calculated for a hundred pounds. 
That might even allow for a run to Monte Carlo, and a 
plunge at trerite et qtiarante. Once he was there he would 
be sure to win a hundred or two ; perhaps more. There 
was the chance of breaking the bank. It had been done 
by other men ; why not by him ? What a monstrous thing 
it was — what an oppression, that ever and again, in the 
midst of these glowing reflections, there should intrude the 
white face of a young girl who had brought misfortune 
upon him ! He strove to brush it away \ he laughed 
aloud, and struck the air violently ; but this white face, 
with its wild, imploring eyes and disordered hair, would 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


156 

not l)c denied. Again and again it presented itself — for 
what ? To 'make his life intolerable, to inflict misery 
upon liirn. Was ever man so persecuted ? 

He commenced to play pyramids with fifty pounds in 
his pocket. The trip to Paris would cost a hundred. He 
was really a very fine player ; some of his winning hazards 
were marvels of dexterity ; he had beaten professionals. 
An easy task to make his fifty pounds a hundred. No 
credit ; the balls were to be paid for on the nail, a sovereign 
for every winning hazard ; his opponent was a bungler ; 
that was easily to be seen by the way he handled his cue. 
The man had plenty of money too j while the balls were 
being stacked, he pulled out a pocket-book stuffed with 
bank-notes. He would not be content with making his 
fifty pounds a hundred \ he would make it two ; lie would 
stump the fool who fancied he could play pyramids. 

But the devil had ranged himself against him. No, it 
was not the devil ; it was the girl with the white face and 
wild eyes. There she was, hovering over the pocket, and 
driving his own white ball in instead of the red. Curse 
her ! Why did she appear at the very moment he was 
making his stroke ? That was the revenge she was taking 
upon him. Pity her ! What was she doing to him that 
she should deserve pity ? 

He would get rid of her somehow. He called forbrandy, 
and drank a glass, neat. It nerved him ; it put courage 
into him. He made a long and difficult winning hazard. 

“ Good stroke ! ” cried his opponent. 

“ ril show you ! ” he cried triumphantly, pocketing the 
sovereign. “ This goes into the middle pocket, ,off three 
cushions,” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


157 


Two sovs to one against it,” offered a blackleg. 

Done with you,” said Mr. Norman Richbell, and failed 
by half-a-dozen inches. 

That was the way the games continued to go, always 
against him, till he had come to his last ten pounds. In 
the game he was now playing the scoring had been equal, 
ball for ball, “ Seven all,” being called by the marker. 

“ Ten pounds on the last ball,” he cried. 

“ That’s a bet,” said his opponent, who essayed what he 
believed would be the winning stroke, but he missed by a 
hair’s breadth ; the ball hung over a top pocket ; a novice 
could have won the game now. 

The room in which they were playing was a public room, 
free to all comers, and when the game was half over some 
strangers had entered and taken their seats. Mr. Norman 
Richbell did not notice them ; he was absorbed in his 
game ; but to three of the strangers he was, unknown to 
himself, an object of interest. The strangers appeared to 
be engaged upon a silent game of their own j two were 
covertly watching the third, who strove to conceal his per- 
turbation, but that he had some cause for fear would have 
been evident to persons whose attention was drawn to 
them. The other onlookers, however, were intent upon 
the game of billiards. 

With a smile of satisfaction Mr. Norman Richbell pro- 
ceeded to pocket the last ball. It would be ton pounds 
saved from the fire. He would offer to double the stakes 
the next game. His trip to Paris would come off, after 
all. 

He drew back his cue, and, in the act of striking, a 
cough from a spectator disturbed him. He looked up, 


158 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


annoyed, and his eyes met those of the third of the 
strangers. With a gesture of anger he struck the ball, 
which went plump into the pocket j but his own followed 
it. He had lost the game. Muttering an oath, he threw 
his ten pounds on the table and quitted the room. The 
third stranger immediately followed him, and the other two 
quietly followed the third. 

Mr. Norman Richbell ran up the stairs ; the third man 
ran after him ; the remaining two paused at the foot of the 
stairs. One said to the other in an undertone : 

“ He will have to come down to get out of the house.” 

His companion nodded, and they both waited quietly 
for the man they had hunted down. A waiter passed them, 
and pulled himself up when he was accosted. 

“ Who is that gentleman who has just gone upstairs ? ” 

“ That ? ” answered the waiter, accepting the shilling 
that was offered him. “ Oh, that is Mr. Richbell, the son 
of the judge, you know.” 

They smiled at each other, but said nothing. 

Mr. Norman Richbell, entering his bedroom, left the 
door partly open ; the third stranger pushed his way in 
swiftly, and, closing the door, clapped his back to it. 

“ Damn you ! ” cried Mr. Norman Richbell. “ What 
brings you here ? ” 

“ Fair words, guv’nor, if you please,” said the stranger. 

Would you mind my locking the door first ? ” 

“ What for? ” demanded Mr. Norman Richbell. 

“ If T ain’t mistaken,” was the reply, “ I am being fol- 
lowed.” 

“ That’s no business of mine.” 


Fd'f^ THE DEFENCE, 


159 


It may be, giiv’nor.” He turned the key, and advanced 
a step or two into the room. 

He was a common-looking man, commonly dressed ; 
one of his shoulders was higher than the other, and he was 
continually hitching it up — a fatal sign when* one is under 
a cloud and wishes to keep himself from observation. His 
name was Maxwell. 

“ Look here, guv’nor,” he said, “ this wouldn’t have 
happened if you’d acted square by me.” 

“ I neither know nor care to know,” retorted Mr. Nor- 
man Richbell, ‘‘ what you mean by ‘ this wouldn’t have 
happened,’ but I’ll make it warm for you if you follow me 
about like this.” 

“ Will you ? ” said Maxwell. “ How about yourself ? ” 
The gentleman’s face twitched convulsively. “ There’s two 
of us, remember. I don’t want to rile you, but I advise 
you to be civil.” 

“ Cut it short,” said Mr. Norman Richbell. “What is 
it you want ? ” 

“ Money.” 

“ I’ve given you what I promised ; you’ll get no more.” 

“ Oh yes, I will, guv’nor. As to giving me what you 
promised, that’s not so. You held out hopes, and you’ll 
satisfy me, or I’ll know the reason why. The trial ain’t 
over yet. If I’m nabbed, you’ll find yourself in the same 
boat with me.” 

“ Curse you ! ” cried Mr. Norman Richbell. “ If you 
threaten me I’ll have your life ! ” 

“ Be careful, guv’nor; it’s a game that two can play at.” 

There was little doubt which of the two would be the 
victor in a physical contest. Maxwell was a square-set 


i6o POR THE DEFEN‘i:E, 

man, barring his odd shoulders, and his frame indicated 
great strength. Mr. Norman Richbell was a straw of a 
man, and he was, moreover, manifestly out of condition. 
He gave one look at Maxwell, who was standing before 
him in an attitude of defiance, and turned away, beating 
the table with his hand. 

“ If you had done what I told you to do,” he said in a 
milder tone, “ there would have been no trouble.” 

“ I did as I was ordered to do.” 

“You did not.” 

“ I did, guvnor. If I’m put to it I’ll swear a Bible oath 
to it.” 

“ Yes, yes. You’re ready to swear away a gentleman’s 
life to make yourself safe.” 

“That’s what I want to do — not to swear anybody’s 
life away, but to make myself safe. Let’s speak a little 
lower, guv’nor. If you don’t mind I’ll just have a peep 
outside.” He peeped through the keyhole, unlocked the 
door carefully, so that the key should make no noise in 
the lock, then opened it slowly, and looked up and down 
the passage. No one was in view. “Perhaps I was mis- 
taken,” he said, confronting his employer. “ Anyways, I 
am going to make myself scarce. But I’ll have this out 
with you first, guv’nor, if you don’t mind. I ain’t going to 
have a thing hanging over me that I ain’t accountable for.” 

“ That you’re not accountable for, you scoundrel ! ” 
said Mr. Norman Richbell, in a tone of suppressed pas- 
sion, “ when you’ve committed murder ! ” 

“It’s an ugly word; I’m free to admit that. But such 
was your order.” 


Tim DEFENCE. i6t 

“ It was not my order. I told you to get the child away 
from her.” 

“ No, no, guv’nor. You told me to get rid of the child. 
Well, I got rid of it. And now you turn upon me. I do 
your dirty work for you, and you leave me in the hole. 
Flesh and blood won’t stand that, you know. Have you 
got a drop of brandy about ? I’ve been scared out of my 
life.” 

“ You will find a flask in the pocket there.” He pointed 
to a coat that was hanging up ; above it was suspended a 
light travelling cap. Maxwell gave a start. 

“ It looks for all the world like a man strung up, 
guv’nor,” he said. He took a flask from the pocket, un- 
screwed it, and applied it to his lips. He did not set it 
down till he had drained the last drop. That puts life 
into a man. Guv’nor, for your sake and mine, I’m going 
to cross the Channel.” 

“ Cross it, and be hanged to you ! ” 

‘‘Be hanged to me,” repeated Maxwell, with an ugly 
laugh. “ I hope it won’t come to that for either of us. 
Can’t cross the Channel, guv’nor, without money.” 

“ I’ve none to give you. I’m stumped. They’ve cleaned 
me out in the billiard-room.” 

“ That’s bad, and I can believe as much of it as I 
please. There, don’t fire up again, guv’nor. If you won’t 
give me money I’ll take what’s as good. I ain’t particular. 
You’ve got a diamond ring on your finger ; you’ve got a 
gold watch in your pocket. I’ll put up with them till you 
raise the wind.” 

“ And if I refuse to give them to you ? ” 

11 


FOR THE DEFENCL . 


162 

As I’m a living man I’ll peach. I will ; and it’ll be 
you that drives me to it. Take your choice. I’m sick of 
this palavering. If I cross the Channel, you’re safe j if I 
stop, it’s all up with you. Now you can do what you 
like.” 

Mr. 'Norman Richbell considered a moment, and ap- 
peared to make up his mind to a certain course. 

“ Just attend to me, you scoundrel ! ” 

“ I won’t be talked to in that way. -Scoundrel yourself ! 
If you hadn’t said you would make it worth my while, do 
you think I’d ever have done the job. What have I gained 
by it ? All I’ve managed to screw out of you is a paltry 
thirty pounds. Do you call that making it worth my 
while ? You’re a liberal gent, you are, and no mistake ! ” 
“ Attend to me, I say.” 

“ As you leave out the scoundrel, I don’t mind. Out 
with it, guv’nor. What do you propose ? ” 

“ I will submit to be robbed ” 

‘‘ Easy does it,” interrupted Maxwell. “ You’re up to 
your games again. Rob you, guv’nor ! It ain’t in me to 
do anything so low. I’m here to get what’s due to me, and 
I advise you not to talk of robbing. You ain’t the only 
one that’s got feelings.” 

I will give you the ring ” 

“ And the watch, guv’nor — and the watch and chain, 
I’ve set my heart on it.” 

“ You shall not have both.” 

I will have both, guv’nor, or I’ll blow the gaff. I’ll go 
straight to the police-station, and say : ‘ There’s an inno- 
cent young gal being tried for murder. She didn’t do it. 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


163 

Mr. Norman Richbell, son of the judge that’s trying the 
case, what a game it is when you come to think of it ! — 
Mr. Norman Richbell is the one that ought to be in the 
dock, and I’m ready to give evidence against him. Come 
along o’ me ; I’ll take you to him.’ Word for word, that’s 
what I’ll say to the inspector if you don’t give me what I 
ask for.” 

“ You’ll have to prove I was on the spot.” 

I’ll prove it, guv’nor. Leave it to me to prove. Don t 
forget that you were keeping out of sight till the job was 
done — waiting for me to come and report.” 

“ And about yourself? ” 

“ Oh, I’ll prove an alibi. I’ve provided for it, guv’nor. 
You ain’t in it with me. I can give you points and beat 
you out of sight. How do you think I’ve lived all these 
years ? ” 

Maxwell was growing more insolent every moment. He 
saw the fear Mr. Norman Richbell was in, and, like an 
astute knave, was taking advantage of it. 

“ You’ve been setting a trap for me,” said the gentleman. 

^‘Nota bit of it, guv’nor,” said the lower-class villain. 

Me set "a trap ! And for a pal, too ! I ain’t one of that 
kidney, but what a man’s got to do in this here blasted 
world is to take care of number one. That’s all I’ve done ; 
and such a gent as you are, brought up as you’ve been, 
and the son of a judge, can’t blame me for it. Tell me, 
now,” he said, with insinuating insolence, ‘‘ can you blame 
a poor cove for taking care of number one ? ” 

Mr. Norman Richbell took the ring from his finger 
and the gold watch and chain from his pocket and kept 
them in his hand. 


164 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ You will cross the Channel ! ” 

“ I will, guv’nor. Send I may live if I don’t. And you 
shall never set eyes on me again. I’ll take a French ship 
to America, and when I’m there I’ll lead a honest, respect- 
able life. Why, you might be a gospel man when you 
consider the good you’re going to do me.” 

“ What will you do with these ? ” asked Mr. Norman 
Richbell, looking at the ring and the watch. ‘‘ Sell them ? ” 

“ Would I do anything so mean ? No, guv’nor ; I’ll pop 
’em the first thing in the morning, and I’ll send you the 
tickets. Could a cove speak fairer ? I always act square 
with a pal, I do.” 

“ Take them, and never let me see your face again.” 

“ I give you my word of honor on it, guv’nor.” 

He opened the door, peered cautiously up and down the 
passage, as he had done before, ducked his head at Mr. 
Norman Richbell and was off. 

Left to himself, the young gentleman walked up and 
down the room with shaken nerves and trembling limbs. 
Until this night he had not clearly faced the deed of which 
he was the instigator, but now Maxwell’s plain speech had 
brought home to him the peril in which he stood. He 
recognized that he was in this man’s power, and that his 
only hope of safety lay in Maxwell’s disappearance from 
the country for ever. Could he trust the scoundrel ? 
could he depend upon his word ? He must ; there was no 
alternative. He had no feeling of compassion for the 
young girl he had sacrificed. It was only of himself he 
thought. He grew faint and sick with fear. He started 
at a shadow ; a paper fluttering to the ground drove the 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


I6S 

blood from his heart j the room was filled with accusing 
signs, its silence with accusing sounds. And in a house 
some sixty miles away his father was also pacing his room, 
face to face with his early sin. But in one marked respect 
these two men were far apart — in the quality of moral 
courage. The son shook with fear and dread ; the awful 
possibilities of to-morrow appalled him. The father, with 
pale face and sad eyes, looked forward to the future with 
stern resolve and composure. The bolt had fallen j he 
would meet it like a man. 

A new cause for apprehension suddenly occurred to Mr. 
Norman Richbell. The watch he had given Maxwell bore 
his name, engraved upon the inner surface of the case. 
Fool, madman, that he was ! He had placed himself still 
further in the man’s power. But he could not recall the 
act. The man was gone. To deaden the sickening fear 
that stole upon him he rang the bell for brandy^ and, 
drinking it, undressed himself, and strove to seek relief in 
sleep. 

Meanwhile Maxwell strode through the streets, laughing 
to himself. He had played a blustering game, and had 
won. He had had no intention of carrying his threats 
into execution — he was too careful of his own safety — but 
they had served his turn. The property he had wrested 
from his cowardly employer must be worth not less than 
fifty pounds j he was a good judge of the value of such 
articles. He was really in earnest in his declaration that he 
would leave England. He had long wished to go to the 
States, and the means of doing so were now in his posses- 
sion. He had another source of satisfaction : he had seen 


i66 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


nothing of the men he fancied had been watching him. 
Upon leaving the hotel he had looked carefully about him, 
and had come to the conclusion that he had deceived him- 
self. But in this conclusion he reckoned without his host. 
The men he feared were tracking him stealthily now, 
awaiting their opportunity. Maxwell afforded it to them. 
Reaching a quiet street, where he believed himself to be 
alone, he stopped by the side of a lamp-post and examined 
his treasures. The diamond sparkled in the light ; he 
held it up and admired it, and as he did so a hand was 
laid upon his shoulder. Turning, he saw the two men 
who had followed him into the billiard-room. In the 
twinkling of an eye, before he had time to resist, a pair of 
hand-cuffs, was round his wrists. 

“ Nabbed ! ” said one of the men. 

“ What for ? ” cried Maxwell. 

“ You’ll know soon enough,” was the answer. They 
had taken the watch and ring from him, and were ex- 
aroining them. “ For one thing, my lad, stolen property.” 

“ You’re out of your reckoning there,” said Maxwell, to 
whom this kind of adventure was not quite new. “ They 
were given to me.” 

“ A likely story. Look here. Jack. ‘ Norman Rich- 
bell ’ engraved on the case.” 

“He presented me with the watch and the ring,” said 
Maxwell, in a dare-devil tone. “ Mr. Norman Richbell is 
a particular friend of mine. I’ll take you to him if you 
like.” 

“ We know where to lay hands on him. Don’t we, Jack ? ” 

“ Rather ! ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 167 

“ Look here,” said Maxwell, “ you’ll get yourselves in 
trouble for this job.” 

We’ll risk it, my man. Won’t we. Jack? ” 

It’s what we propose to do.” 

“ You won’t take me to Mr. Richbell ? ” 

“ We won’t. Will we. Jack ? ” 

Not if Mr. Maxwell went down on his bended knees.” 

“ Oh, you know my name ? ” 

Slightly. It’s not the only thing we know about you. 
Is it. Jack?” 

“ Not by a long way.” 

“ By the Lord ! ” cried Maxwell, inspired by a sudden 
thought, “did he send you after me? ” 

“ Ah, that’s the question. Isn’t it', Jack ? ” 

“ That’s about it.” 

“ If he has,” exclaimed Maxwell, “ I’ll make it warm for 
him. Here, I say, where’s your warrant ? 

Captor number one pulled out a staff. 

“ Are you coming quietly ? ” 

“What if I don’t?” 

“ We’ll just give you a little tap on the head. Won’t we, 
Jack ? ” 

“ Them’s my sentiments.” 

“All right,” said Maxwell, resigning himself to his fate. 
“But I’ll make you pay for it, mind.” Another thought 
occurred to him. “ Can we square it ? ” 

“ Can we square it ? What should you say. Jack ? ” 

“ I should say he’s a damned fool.” 

“ You’re another,” said Maxwell defiantly, and walked 
away quietly with his captors. 


i68 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


At five o’clock the next morning Mr. Norman Richbell 
was awakened by some person shaking him roughly in his 
bed. He started up. The window-blind was drawn 
aside, and there was just light enough for him to see who 
the intruder was. 

What, Sandy ! ” he cried. 

“ Yes, sir,” said Mr. Justice Richbell’s confidential man. 

I’ll trouble you to get up at once and dress yourself.” 

“What for, Sandy?” asked Mr. Norman Richbell, 
jumping out of bed. “ Has anything happened ? ” 

“I’m not at liberty to enter into conversation, sir. 
Here are your trousers, sir.” 

“ But you must explain ” 

“ Begging your pardon, sir, I can explain nothing. I’m 
acting on his lordship’s orders. You are to come wifh me 
without a moment’s delay. His lordship wishes to see 
you.” 

“ It is not convenient for me to go witn you so sud- 
denly.” 

“ You must make it convenient, sir. My orders are to 
take you to his lordship.” 

“ But surely I have a voice in it, Sandy ? ” 

“ No, sir, I don’t think you have.” 

“You are impertinent,” said Mr. Norman Richbell, 
throwing himself into a chair. “ Flatly, I decline to come.” 

“ Flatly, sir,” said Sandy, firmly and respectfully, “ if 
you won’t come willingly, I shall have to take you unwill- 
ingly.” 

“ By force? ” cried the young man. 

“By force, sir. I can do it. His lordship’s orders 
must be obeyed.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


169 


Mr. Norman Richbell glanced at Sandy, and saw that the 
man was thoroughly in earnest. In silence he proceeded 
to dress himself. 

There’s a bill to pay here, Sandy, and I have no 
money.” 

“ I have seen to that, sir. The account is settled.” 

“ Where is my father stopping, Sandy ? ” 

“ At a house called Fairview, sir.” 

“ And you are to take me there, whether I will or no ? ” 

“ I am to take you there, sir, whether you are willing or 
not.” 

Mr. Norman Richbell shrugged his sholders in the en- 
deavor to show that he was not ill at ease. But it was 
not until he and Sandy were in the train that he was 
chilled by the thought that he was going to the town in 
which the young girl he had betrayed was being tried for 
her life. 


170 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE THIRD DAY OF THE TRIAL. 

The counsel for the prosecution : “ My lord, before my 
learned brother resumes his defence I have, with his con- 
currence, to speak of a circumstance which has come to 
our knowledge, and which will render it necessary that 
some amendment be made in the indictment. It is that the 
prisoner is being tried under an assumed name.” • 

The judge : “ Are you in a position to prove this, and 
to prove also the proper name she bears ? ” 

Counsel for the prosecution : “ I am, my lord. A lady, 
who last evening read a report of the proceedings of this 
court in a London evening paper is now present, having 
travelled from London in the night. I propose to call 
her.” 

The judge : “ You may call your witness.” 

“ Call Mrs. Geraldine Leycester.” 

Counsel for the defence ( in an undertone to the pri- 
soner) : “ Be brave. There is nothing to fear.” 

Mrs. Leycester, a lady of middle age, whose features 
bore traces of deep suffering, entered the box, and was 
sworn. 

“ Your name is Geraldine Leycester ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You reside in the north of London ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘You are a widow ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


171 

“I am.” 

“ Do you know the prisoner ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What is her name ? ” 

‘‘ Margaret Leycester.” 

“Is she your daughter ? ” 

“ She is.” 

“ Her name is not Mary Lee ? ” 

“ It is not.” 

Counsel for the defence : “ I have nothing to ask you.” 

The witness left the box. 

Counsel for the defence : “ My lord, I have an applica- 
tion to make which I trust your lordship will accede to. 
The accused is in a state of nervous prostration, which is 
likely to be intensified by the proceedings of to-day. If 
her mother, who she knew, through me, was in court, but 
with whom she has exchanged no word, is permitted to sit 
near her, it will strengthen her to endure what she has to 
go through.” 

The judge : “ In the peculiar circumstances of this 
case there can be no objection to your suggestion. The 
officers will see to it.” 

Mrs. Leycester wa§ conducted to a seat which the 
counsel for the defence had already provided for her, so 
close to the prisoner that they could clasp hands. The 
tears streamed down the mother’s face as she took the 
seat and bent forward. 

“ My child ! ” she whispered. 

“ Mother, mother ! ” 

“ Turn to me, dear child ! ” 


172 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


No attempt was made to prevent the embrace which 
followed these tender utterances. Many persons in court, 
men as well as women, witnessed the solemn scene with 
tears in their eyes. Mrs. Leycester resumed her seat, which 
had been pushed still closer to the prisoner, and took her 
daughter’s hand in hers. 

Counsel for the defence : “ My lord, I have another 
application to make. Certain witnesses have been brought 
from a distance upon whose evidence I rely. They are not 
here of their own prompting, but have been brought 
to this place. In order that they shall not hear each 
other’s evidence they are now outside the court. Their 
presence in the witness-box, when they are called upon to 
appear, is in some sense vital to my case, and I have a 
fear that one or more of them may attempt to evade their 
responsibility. I ask that they be properly guarded, and 
that none of them shall, by reason of lax watching, have 
any opportunity afforded them to escape. It is an unusual 
application, I am aware, but it is not the only unusual 
feature in this painful case, and nothing but my great 
anxiety would induce me to make it.” 

The judge : “ If what you require has not already been 
done, it shall be seen to at once.” 

Counsel for the defence : “ I thank you, my lord. Call 
Mr. Norman Richbell.” 

A thrill ran round the court. Mr. Normal Richbell ! 
Why, that was the name of the judge’s son ! What evidence 
could he have to give in the case ? And to appear before 
his father, too, who was judging it ! The spectators looked 
at each other in wonder, and then turned their eyes upon 


FOR THE DEfEHCE. 


*73 


the judge. His face was calm and impassive, and showed 
no sign that anything of an extraordinary nature was taking 
place. A noble face, massive and grand in its proportions, 
the thoughtful eyes and lined forehead denoting the care 
and attention he was bestowing upon the duty in which 
he was engaged. Justice had indeed in him a worthy 
representative. 

Counsel for the defence- ( speaking in a low tone to 
Mrs. Leycester) : “ When this witness begins to speak 
control your daughter’s agitation. You will soon under- 
stand why I give you and her this caution.” 

Mr. Norman Richbell made his appearance in court, 
accompanied by Sandy. He was carefully dressed, and, 
as if in defiance, had placed a flower in his coat. Being 
directed to go into the witness-box he hesitated and looked 
at his father. But from Mr. Justice Richbell came no 
sign of recognition, nor did he evince any agitation. He 
seemed to be dividing his attention beween the witness and 
the prisoner, his eyes travelling from one to the other with 
thoughtful and apparently unimpassioned observance. 
The direction to Mr. Norman Richbell to take his place 
in the witness-box was repeated and this time he obeyed 
it. 

‘‘ The evidence you shall give shall be the truth, the 
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God ? ” 

It had been his intention to make only a pretence of 
kissing the Holy Book, but the keen eyes of the counsel 
for the defence were upon him, and he became aware al'-o 
that he was being watched with curiosity by nearly every 
person in court. He put his lips to the Book and laid it 
down. 


174 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ Your name is Norman Richbell ? ” 

“ It is. I am the judge’s son.” 

“ Merciful God ! ” 

The cry issued from the lips of the prisoner, who, when 
the witness answered this first question, started to her feet, 
and stared wildly in his direction. 

“ Hush ! ” whispered the counsel for the defence. Be 
calm. You are safe. I, who would lay down my life for 
you, tell you that you have now nothing to fear.” 

The prisoner, breaking into a passion of weeping, sank 
into the chair in which she had been allowed to sit, and 
was drawn into her mother’s arms. The incident produced 
great excitement in court, and “ Silence ” was demanded 
several times before it was obtained. 

The judge (to counsel for the defence) : “ If you think 
it advisable, the court will adjourn for a quarter of an 
hour, during which the prisoner can be attended to.” * 

Counsel for the defence (after exchanging a few words 
with the prisoner and her mother) : “ There is no need for 
an adjournment, my lord. The accused is recovering.” 

In making the unsolicited declaration that he was the 
judge’s son, Mr. Norman Richbell had acted with deliberate 
intention. Two hours before the opening of the court he 
had been taken to the house in which the judge resided 
during the sessions, but his father had refused to see him. 
Thereupon he said that as his presence did not seem to 
be required he would leave the place, biit this he was not 
allowed to do. Sandy stopped the way again, and the man 
made it clear to him that if he did not go quietly to the court 
he would be taken there by force. He was well acquainted 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


*75 


with Sandy’s doggedness and faithfulness, and though he 
attempted to evade his captor he did not succeed. Before 
he left the house he was served with an order to appear as 
a witness in the trial, and from that moment he was com- 
pletely powerless. Despite that he was the son of an 
eminent judge and lawyer he knew little of the law, and he 
imagined that his open statement of the relationship be- 
tween them would in some way aid him ; but in this he 
was mistaken, as was shown by the remark made by the 
judge when the excitement into which the court had been 
thrown by the prisoner’s wild cry had calmed down. 

The judge : “ It is necessary that the witness should be 
warned to answer simply the questions that are put to 
him.” 

Counsel for the defence : Quite so, my lord.” To 
witness : “ Are you acquainted with accused ? ” 

No answer. Question repeated. 

“ I am.” 

“ And she with you ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Where did your acquaintance commence ? ” 

“ In Ilford.” 

“ How did it commence ? ” 

“ In the usual way.” 

“ Explain what you mean by ‘ in the usual way ’ ? ” 

“ No explanation is required ; it explains itself.” 

“ Not to me nor to the court. Were you introduced to 
each other by a mutual friend ? ” 

“ No.” 

‘‘ Did you introduce yourself to her ? ” * 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


176 

“ I think so.” 

“ It is a matter which does not admit of a doubt in your 
mind. Did you introduce yourself to her? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ In your own name ? ” 

Witness did not reply. 

The judge" : “Answer the question.” 

Witness : “No, not in my own name.” 

“ In an assumed name, then ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

What was the name you assumed ? ” 

“ Harcourt.” 

“ The accused knew you as Mr. Harcourt ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What reason had you for concealing your true name ? ” 
I did not conceal it.” 

“ But you did not disclose it to her. Is not that an evi- 
dence of concealment ? ” 

“ You must think what you please.” 

“Very well. An intimacy grew up between you ? ” 

“ Yes/’ 

“ As a result of which the accused found that she was 
in childbearing by you ? ” 

“ How. do I know ‘ by me ’ ? ” 

“ These* discreditable evasions and insinuations will not 
serve you. You were informed by her that in a few months 
she expected to become a mother ? ” 

“ I cannot deny that she informed me of it.” 

“ Had you promised her marriage ? ” 

“ It was not exactly a promise.” 


FOR THE defence, 1^7 

What was it then ? ” No answer. ‘‘ She had an ex- 
pectation that you would marry her ? ” 

“ If she chose to believe it, that was her affair.” 

The court may think otherwise. Did she call upon 
you, when she informed you gf her condition, to fulfil 
your promise?” 

“ She asked me to marry her, to save her good name.” 
“ You refused? ” 

“Yes, I refused. I said it was impossible.” 

“ Did you see her again, after that refusal ? ” 

“ I did not.” 

“ Did you know what became of her ? ” 

“ All I know is that she disappeared. She ran away.” 
“ She left Ilford ? ” 

“ So I understood.” 

“ Did you make any efforts to discover where she had 
gone ? ” 

“ I made inquiiies.” 

“ Where ? How ? Of whom ? ” 

“ I do not recollect. All I can say is, I made inquiries.” 
“ What was the result of those inquiries ? ” 

“There was no result.” 

“ You learned nothing of her movements ? ” 

“ I learned nothing.” 

“ At the time ? ” 

“ Yes, at the time.” 

“ But you heard from her subsequently ? ” 

“ She wrote to me from Brentingham.” 

“That is, from the adjacent village? ” 


12 


178 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ I take it from you that it is the adjacent village. I 
am not familiar with this neighborhood.” 

“ What did she say to you in the letter referred to ? ” 

“ Oh, the usual thing.” 

“ The answer will not do. She informed you that she 
had sought refuge in a village where she was not known ? ” 
“ I think she said something to that effect.” 

“ Have you that letter ? ” 

“ No. I do not keep letters of that kind.” 

“Did she inform you that to hide her — her shame she 
had assumed the name of Mary Lee ? ” 

“ I suppose she must have informed me.” 

“There is no supposing. You replied to that letter?” 
“Yes, I replied to it.’ 

“ You wrote some name upon your envelope. What 
name ? ” No answer. “ I must press you upon this 
point. In what name did you address her ? ” 

“Mary Lee.” 

“As we are speaking now of her first letter and your 
reply to it, I may take it that she did inform you that she 
adopted the name of Mary Lee? ” 

“ It must have been so. I could not have invented the 
name.” 

“ Exactly. Did she tell you in that first letter that she 
was in great distress ? ” 

“ She said she was in need of some assistance.” 

“ In the shape of money.” 

“Yes, in the shape of money ? ” 

“ Did you send her any ? ” 

^ No, I had none to spare.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE^ 


179 


‘‘ Did she write to you again ? " 

“ Yes.” 

“ And again ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Always to the same effect ? ” 

“ Pretty much to the same effect.” 

“ And still you sent her no money ? ” 

“ I could not.” 

“ Did you promise to send her any ? ” 

I said I would when I could spare it.” 

“ She wrote to you before her child was born ? '' 

“ I have told you so already.” 

“ And after her child was born ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

In any of these letters did she remind you of your 
promise of marriage, and urge you to fulfil it?” 

‘‘No. She seemed to have made up her mind not to 
have anything more to do with me.” 

“ Have you not one of those letters ? ” 

“ Not one. I burnt them all.” 

“ From the day upon which you last saw her to the 
present time she has not received a shilling from you? ” 
“No.” 

“ Before I proceed to another branch of the subject I 
wish to ask you if you were playing billiards last night ? ” 
“ What has that to do with the affair ? ” 

“ Answer my question.” 

“ Well, yes, I was playing billiards. Do you object to it ? ” 
“ The game was pyramids, I believe ? ” 

“ Yes, it was.” 


i8o FOR THE DEFENCE, 

“ You were betting on the balls ? ” 

“ Of course I was.” 

“ And you lost? ” 

“ Yes, I lost.” 

How much ? ” 

“ I refuse to answer.” 

“ You must answer. You have stated that the reason 
why you did not assist the accused in her distress was that 
you had no money to spare. I wish to verify your state- 
ment, How much did you lose ? ” 

“ Fifty pounds.” 

“ Do you persist in saying that you were unable to com- 
ply with her reasonable request?” No answer. “Are 
you acquainted with a man named Maxwell ? ” 

“ I appeal to the court.” 

“ What for ? ” 

Must I answer all these questions ? ” 

The judge : “ You have no choice. The learned counsel 
is treating you as a hostile witness. You will answer 
them.” 

“Are you acquainted with a man named Maxwell? ” 

“ I know a man of that name.” 

“ I warn you not to equivocate. The consequences may 
be serious. What occupation does that man follow ? ” 

“ He is a travelling conjurer.” 

“ A mountebank ? ” 

“ Something like that.” 

“ Is he a man of good character ? ” 

“ I know nothing of his character.” 

“ Does he tell fortunes ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


i8i 

“ He pretends to.” 

“ Are you aware that he is skilled in the use of chloroform, 
and in the pursuit of his designs sometimes administers 
it?” 

“ I cannot say what he is skilled in. You had best put 
those questions to him if you can find him.” 

“ Very well. You are acquainted with the man ; but he 
does not belong to your station in life ? ” 

“ Not at all.” 

You employed him to do you some service ? ” 

“ I paid him for what he did for me.” 

“ I am not disputing that. It is a fact that you employed 
him ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, it is. If you like, and as you are so hard upon 
me, I will tell you all about it.” 

‘‘ I simply wish to elicit the truth. You are aware that 
the accused is being tried on the charge of killing her 
child ? ” 

“ Yes, I am aware of it.” 

No more serious charge could be brought against any 
person, and I, and all in this court, are desirous that justice 
should be done. It is to this end that I am pressing you 
hard, as you term it. We shall be glad to hear what you 
have to say respecting your transactions with the man 
Maxwell.” 

“ There were no transactions. You use wrong words, 
to my injury. I employed him as a go-between, that is 
all.” 

‘‘As a go-between ? You mean between you and the 
accused ?” 


i 82 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Yes. Naturally I did not wish to appear in the affair 
myself, everything being at an end between me and the 
prisoner, and I am not accountable for what has occurred. 
Every man makes mistakes in life, and I am no better than 
the rest, I suppose. The prisoner, after the child was 
born, worried me out of my life with* her letters, and I sent 
Maxwell to her to arrange matters.” 

The witness, who had spoken very rapidly, paused here. 

To arrange matters ? Go on.” 

“ I thought it would be best for her that the child should 
be put somewhere away from her, where she would not 
have the trouble, and, if you like, the shame of it. What 
I did was out of consideration for her. I sent Maxwell 
with a proposition that she should give up the child, and 
said I would take care of it. A man could scarcely do 
more than that. It was a fair proposition. Then she 
would be free from reproach and shame. I am not using 
my own words, but yours and hers. She would not con- 
sent. If it hadn’t been for her obstinacy ” 

“ Why do you pause ? Proceed. If it had not been for 
her obstinacy — — ” 

“ I shall not say what I was about to say ; you can’t 
force me ; and perhaps I had no right to say so much.” 

“ You had no right to say so much. The accused would 
not listen to the proposal you made to her through the 
man Maxwell ? ” 

“ No, she would not listen to it.” 

Your wish was that she should give up the child 
entirely, and never see it again ?”' 

“Yes, it would have been altogether the best thing for 
her, and for the child, too.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


183 


And she steadfastly refused to listen to you ? ” 

“ Yes, she did.” 

“ Do you remember the 25th of April ? ” 

“ Not particularly.” 

“ I will assist you. It was on that day that the man 
Maxwell was to meet the accused in Brentingham Forest — 
where they had met several times before on your business — 
and endeavor, for the last time, to induce her to consent to 
your proposal ? ” 

“ As you fix it that way, I suppose I must remember it, 
though the date is not in my mind.” 

“ No ? And yet it was upon that day that the child was 
supposed to be drowned ? ” 

“ As you insist upon having it, I will say that I re- 
member it.” 

“ Was the specific purpose of this meeting on that date 
to make a last appeal to her ? ” 

“ Yes, to bring her to reason.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ Well ? I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ Maxwell went upon your errand ? ” 

‘‘ He did.” 

“ And returned to you ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What report did he make to you ? ” 

“ That there was an end of the affair.” 

“ That was all ? ” 

“ That was all.” 

“ Did you not inquire for particulars ? ” 

“ I did not. I had been very anxious about the whole 
affair, and I was glad to hear it was at an end.” 


1 84 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ Now, shortly afterwards did you not see in the papers 
that the accused had been arrested on the charge of drown- 
ing her child ? ” 

I saw something about it.” 

Upon reading that, what steps did you take ? ” 

“ No steps.” 

None whatever ? ” 

^‘None whatever.” 

“You knew that the accused was in prison upon this 
dreadful charge, and yet you did nothing to assist her ? ” 

“ What could I have done ? If I had gone to her it 
would not have helped her in any way.” 

“ Did you believe the charge to be true ? ” 

“ I did not know what to believe.” 

“ You must have had some ideas on the subject ? ” 

“ I thought it likely she might have done it in a fit of 
insanity, and I was very sorry for her.” 

“ You knew that she was penniless. Did it not occur to 
you that it was your duty to engage counsel to defend 
her ? ” 

“ I was in a dreadful position — and all through her un- 
reasonableness. I could not drag myself into it ; it would 
have done no good. Besides, I knew that some one would 
come forward to defend her, or that the court would appoint 
some counsel to do so.” 

“ Did you send for the man Maxwell to talk over the 
matter ? ” 

“ No, I did not.” 

“ But he might have informed you whether she was in 
such a state of distraction when he left her as would be 
likely to lead to the committal of a crime so dreadful ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


i8s 

‘‘ Anyway, I did not send for him.” 

When did you see Maxwell last ? Be careful in your 
answer.” 

The witness turned deathly white, and he grasped the 
rail for support. The question was repeated, but no answer 
was given to it. 

Take this watch and chain in your hand. Do you re- 
cognize it ? ” 

Witness (in a faint voice) : “ Yes, it is mine.” 

“Yes, it is yours. Your name is engraved on the case. 
Do you recognize this diamond ring ? Is it also yours ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ You gave these articles to Maxwell last night ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ He threatened me.” 

“ With what ? ” 

“ I am not obliged to say.” 

“ That is true. For the present, I have done with you.” 

Counsel for the prosecution ; “ I have no questions to 
ask the witness.” 

Mr. Norman Richbell left the box, and was about to quit 
the court when the judge interposed. 

Judge : “Do not allow the witness to leave the court. 
Let an officer be appointed to take charge of him. His 
further presence may be required.” 

Counsel for the defence ; “ Call Mr. Maxwell.” 


i86 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MAXWELL MAKES OPEN CONFESSION. 

“ Your name is Maxwell ? 

“ Yes.” 

“ What is your Christian name ? ” 

“ Only Maxwell.” 

“ What is your trade ? ” 

“ I follow the road.” 

“ Do you give open-air exhibitions ? ” 

“ Sometimes ; and sometimes under a roof.” 

You are an acrobat ? ” 

I am a good many things.” 

“ You practise sleight-of-hand, tricks with the cards, 
tumbling, and conjuring generally ? ” 

That’s correct.” 

“ You profess, also, to know something of second-sight, 
clairvoyance, and mesmerism ? ” 

‘‘ I know something about them.” 

“ And these are included in your exhibitions ? ” 

Yes, on and off.” 

“ Let Mrs. Tregartin come forward.” 

Mrs. Tregartin made her way through the body of the 
court. 

You spoke in your evidence, Mrs. Tregartin, of a man 
whom you saw in a field, and afterwards at the door of 
your cottage, in conversation with the accused. Look at 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 187 

the witness now in the box. Is he the man you referred 
to?” 

He is the man, sir.” 

“ You are positive of it ? ”, 

“ I am, sir.” 

Maxwell : “ The lady is quite right. I never intended 
to deny it.” 

The examination of the witness was continued. 

“ You admit going to see the accused at Mrs. Tre- 
gartin’s cottage ? ” 

“ I do.” 

“ How did you know the |,ccused lived there ? ” 

“ I had instructions.” 

“ From whom ? ” 

“ From the gentleman who employed me.” 

What is the name of the gentleman ? ” 

Mr. Norman Richbell.” 

^ Let Mr. Norman Richbell stand up. Is that gentle- 
man your employer ? ” 

“ That is the gentleman I am speaking of.” 

“ What was the nature of your mission ? ” 

“ I was to go to the young lady, and try to persuade her 
to give up her baby.” 

“ Being instructed to do so by Mr. Norman Richbell ? ” 

“ Of course. I couldn’t have made it up out of my 
own head. I never heard of the young lady till I was told 
of her.” 

The judge : By what name did you know her ? ” 
Mary Lee, my lord.” 

“ That was the name Mr. Norman Richbell told you 
she bore ? ” 


i88 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ That was the name, my lord.” 

Counsel for the defence : “Do I understand that on 
your first visit to the accused you were instructed to induce 
her to give her child into your charge, there and then ? ” 

“ Well, not exactly. I was to lead up to it, and get to 
know how she would take it.” 

“ How did she take it ? ” 

“ Well, the first time I saw her there wasn’t much said 
about it. She wasn’t exactly the kind of lady I expected 
to see.” 

“ What kind of lady did you expect to see ? ” 

“No lady at all. A common kind of girl.” 

“ Your impression arising from Mr. Norman Richbell’s 
description of her ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Very little passed, then, between you and the accused 
on your first visit respecting the child ? ” 

“Very little. I just touched upon it, that’s all, and I 
saw it would be a difficult job.” 

“ You regard yourself as a good judge of character ? ” 

“Yes, I do. I’m not often mistaken.” 

“ It was your judgment of the character of the accused 
that caused you to believe your task would be a difficult 
one ? ” 

“ Yes. Some women are rougher than others, and it 
doesn’t much matter what you say to them. This young 
lady was one of the delicate ones.” 

“ How long did your first visit occupy ? ” 

“ About half an hour.” 

“As you spoke very little about the child, you must have 
conversed upon other subjects. What were they ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


189 


“ I was instructed to keep the young lady in a good 
temper, and to make her generally well-disposed towards 
the gentleman who employed me. I was to excite her 
pity for him." 

Did he require her pity ? ” 

I was to make her believe he did. He would have 
come to see her himself — so I was told to say — but he had 
met with an accident to his foot which kept him a prisoner 
in the house. The doctor would not allow him to stir out ; 
if he was not very careful he would have to have his foot 
amputated.” 

“ It was not the truth ? ” 

“ Oh no. There was nothing the matter with the gentle- 
man." 

“ Did you succeed in deceiving the lady ? " 

“ I think so. She believed every word I said.” 

Was anything else talked of ? ” 

“ Letters. She wasn’t to send any more through the 
post-office, nor to go for any more there. I was to find 
some other way of sending and receiving the letters. On 
my way to the village I walked through Brentingham Forest, 
and saw a tree that I thought would do for a post-office. 
The young lady made no objection.” 

‘‘What reason did you give for this new method of 
conducting the correspondence ? ’’ 

“ I was to say that the gentleman had some trouble with 
his family, and that he would be completely ruined if any- 
thing was discovered about him and the young lady. I 
was to give her very kind messages, and say how sorry he 
was for everything, and that it was not his fault but his 
family’s that things weren’t different with him and her.” 


190 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


“ She received all you said as true ? She did not dispute 
with you ? ” 

“ No j she believed everything.” 

“ On your first visit did you take her any money ? ” 

“ No. I was to tell her he hadn’t a penny, but hoped 
to have some soon.” 

“You saw her on other occasions ? ” 

“ A good many times, in Brentingham Forest.” 

“ What reason did you give for not going openly to the 
cottage ? ” 

“That it was best for her and the gentleman, who, if he 
was discovered — which he might be if I was to show myself 
too freely — would have to run away from the country.” 

“ On any of those subsequent visits did you take her 
any money ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ You kept promising her, however ? ” 

“ Yes. I was to keep her in a regular string.” 

“ I should like to hear how this systematic duplicity was 
to serve your employer ? ” 

“ Well, he knew she was hard up, and he thought he 
would starve her out, frighten her into doing what he 
wanted about the baby.” 

“You continued to speak to her of this plan ? ” 

“ Yes, I led up to it gradually, but I saw at last it was so 
much time thrown away. ‘ It’s no use, gov’nor,’ I said to 
him ; ‘ she won’t give it up willingly.’ Then he said she’d 
have to give it up whether she was willing or not. He 
asked me to think of some way of doing this.” 

“ Before we continue this branch of the subject I wish 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


I9I 

to ask you whether you knew from the first the right name 
of your employer ? ” 

“ No, I didn’t. He said it was Harcourt ; but I found 
out for myself that it was RichbelL’ 

“ He was not pleased at your discovery ? ” 

“ He was in a regular scot about it, and flew into a 
passion and denied it ; but I said, ‘ It’s no good, gov’nor ; 
easy does it.’ ” 

‘‘ Now, respecting your finding some way of getting her 
child from her without her consent. What plan did you 
finally think of ? ” 

“ It isn’t right to say I thought of any at all ; we settled 
it between us. It came about first by his saying that she 
was sensitive and nervous, and could be made to believe 
almost anything ; and I saw, too, that she was terribly 
worked up. I’ve seen people thrown into trances in the 
state she was in. I’ve done it myself, and made them 
believe what I liked.” 

“ Without making either one of you solely responsible, 
what was ultimately agreed upon ? ” 

“ I couldn’t take the baby away by force ; all the fat 
would have been in the fire. We spoke about chloroform. 
If I could make her lose her senses, and put a thought into 
her mind that she didn’t think of herself, the thing might 
be managed. We went through it all, Mr. Richbell and 
me, and I started to do it.” 

“ You mean to make us believe that this foul plot was 
discussed between you in cold blood ? ” 

“ I’ve sworn to speak the truth.” 

Did you think of the consequences, in the event of 
your success — of the consequences to her ? ” 


192 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ We didn’t speak about that. His opinion was that 
^ she’d soon get over the loss, and as he knew her better 
than I did, I took what he said.” 

By that time, during your many visits to the village 
and its neighborhood, you had made yourself well 
acquainted with the place ? ” 

‘‘ Yes.” 

You knew something about Rocky Reaches ? ” 

‘‘A good deal about it.” 

“ Was it understood between you and your employer 
what was to be done with the child ? ” 

“ I was to do as I liked about it.” 

“ Make away with it ? ” 

There was some idea of the kind.” 

At this answer a shudder ran through the court. 

“ The plan was to be carried out on the 25th of April ? ” 
“ That was the date.’ 

“You had made an appointment with her in Brentingham 
Forest for that day ? ” 

“ It was made by a letter Mr. Richbell wrote.” 

“ You went to the forest on that day ? ” 

“ Yes j I did.” 

“ Taking chloroform with you ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Now, attend carefully to what I say. You saw the 
accused there with her child ? ” 

“Yes ; she was there.” 

“ Did you present yourself to her ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ What did you do ? ” 

“ I steeped a handkerchief in the chloroform—^’ 


' FOR THE DEFENCE, 


193 


Stop. I have told you to be careful. We must have 
the occurrences of that afternoon in regular order. You 
were hiding behind a tree ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ You whispered some words to her, keeping yourself 
carefully concealed ? ” 

“ Did I ? ” 

“ I will refresh your memory, and I warn you strongly 
of the consequences of swearing to what is not true, and of 
denying, on your oath, what is true. The words you 
whispered were, ‘ Better if baby were dead ; then all your 
troubles would be over. You would be a free woman, 
and no one would know what has happened.’ Do you 
deny this ? ” 

I did whisper something or other.” 

To the same effect } ” 

» Well, yes.” 

“ The accused turned her head in your direction, and 
then it was that you administered the chloroform ? ” 

“ I don’t deny it.” 

“ While she sank to the ground in semi-insensibility you 
repeated the words I have spoken,* or words to that 
effect ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Your reason for this was that, when she became con- 
scious, she should suppose that the loss of her child was 
brought about by. her own act ? ” 

“ I thought it was likely.” 

She became insensible ? ” 

*<Yes.” 

13 


194 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


“ And then ? ” 

I carried her to Rocky Reaches.’^ 

And the child?” 

I carried that as well.” 

“ You are a powerful man ? ” 

“ I am strong enougl-u” 

“ Having carried her and the child there, what did you 
do next ? ” 

“ I laid her down.” 

“ What did you do with the child ? ” 

“ I took it away with me.” 

The prisoner started to her feet, and, with her face con- 
vulsed with conflicting emotions which deprived her of 
speech, stretched forth her arms to the witness. A violent 
tumult ensued in the court. The spectators rose, and so 
great was the confusion that it was many minutes before order 
was restored. These minutes were employed by the counsel 
for the defence and the prisoner’s mother in an endeavor 
to calm the unhappy lady, but their efforts were not success- 
ful. Recovering her voice, she moaned, “ My child, my 
child ! ” and looked wildly round, as though seeking a means 
of escape. At length the officers succeeded in obtaining 
comparative silence, and the voice of the counsel for the 
defence was heard once more, questioning the witness : 

“ Is the child alive ? ” 

It is.” 

The scream that pierced the court went to the hearts of 
every person present at this extraordinary scene. Imme- 
diately afterwards the prisoner fell to the ground. 

The judge : “ The court will adjourn for half an hour. 
Officers look to the witnesses.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


195 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE END OF THE TRIAL. 

Upon the reassembling of the court the counsel for the 
defence addressed the judge : 

“ My lord, I am happy to say that the accused lady is 
now in a condition to go through the concluding formalities 
of this trial, which I am desirous, as I am sure all here are, 
to make as brief as possible. The mere statement of the 
witness Maxwell as to the safety of the child is not, I am 
aware, sufficient for the law, but during the adjournment 
we have been in communication with the wife of the 
witness, who has supplied us with information which will 
enable us to produce the child within a few hours. I am now 
in your lordship’s hands, and I ask you whether it is neces- 
sary for me to continue my examination of the man who 
is now in the box ? ” 

The judge : “ The circumstances of this trial are unprece- 
dented. There is, no doubt, something more to be eluci- 
dated from the witness which may assist the ends of justice. 
I take it, therefoi*e, upon myself Jo call upon you to con- 
clude the examination. There is the question of motive, 
and it had better be inquired into here.” 

The foreman of the jury : My lord, the jury desire me 
to say that they are ready to deliver their verdict.” 

The judge : “ It is my duty to inform you that the law 
must take its course, and that your verdict cannot be 


196 FOR THE DEFENCE. 

delivered until the child is produced. Meanwhile, the wit- 
ness is under examination.” 

Counsel for the defence (to the witness Maxwell) : 
“ When you laid the accused lady on the rocks, was she 
still insensible? ” 

‘‘ She was.” 

“ Showing no sings of early recovery ? ” 

“ Not that I could see.” 

“ When the Reaches were subsequently searched certain 
articles were found among the rocks — a brooch belonging 
to the accused, a child’s hood and woolen shoe. How did 
they get there? ” 

“ That’s more than I can say.” 

“ In our opinion it is not more than you can say. The 
articles must have been placed there by human hands — 
yours ? ” 

“ Might not the lady have dropped the brooch when she 
recovered ? ” 

“We will not admit that presumption. The brooch was 
securely pinned. It has been produced in court, and the 
jury can see for themselves that the pin is strong and firm, 
and, once in its place on a dress, is not likely to become 
detached. The hood and shoe were found far from the 
shore, in such a position as to render it a certainty that 
human hands had fixed them in the rocks, in order that 
they should be afterwards discovered by persons searching 
there. What have you to say to this ? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

“You will give me no other answers concerning these 
articles than those you have already given ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


197 


I am not able to give you any other answer.’’ 

“ The jury will form their own opinion upon your vera- 
city. In leaving the lady in a state of insensibility on 
Rocky Reaches, after the scene you have described, was it 
your intention that she should believe that she had drowned 
her child ? ” 

“ I cannot say it was my intention.” 

“ You must have had some design ? What was it ? ” 

“ I have no other answer to give you.” 

“ You must have known that disinterested persons would 
come to that conclusion, the child being missing, and the 
articles found as I have stated ? ” 

I did not give it a thought.” 

“ You returned to your employer ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ With the child?” 

No. I left it where it would be taken care of.” 

“We are thankful to you for that, but for nothing else. 
What report did you make to your employer? ” 

“ That the child was drowned.” 

“By you?’ 

“ I did not say that. I told him that it had fallen into 
the sea, and was carried away before I could rescue it.” 

“ What was your motive for this base falsehood ? ” 

^ Well, he hadn’t paid me for my work, and I thought it 
would give me a hold over him.” 

“ In a word, you intended to levy blackmail upon him 
through his fears ? ” 

“ It was the only way I could force him to behave fairly 
to me,” 


198 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


You visited him last night ? ” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“ He gave you his watch and chain and his ring ? ” 

“ He had no money to give me, he said, so he gave me 
what I could turn into money.” 

“ You knew this trial was proceeding ? ” 

“Yes, and I knew it could not be finished till to-day. I 
intended to send a telegram, saying where the child was 
to be found. That would have set the lady free.” 

“ We have your word for it. Did it occur to you that 
for several weeks past your victim has been suffering intense 
agony ? ” 

“ I am not bound to tell you what was in my mind. I 
have told you too much already.” 

Counsel for the defence (addressing the judge) : “ I do not 
see what purpose can be served, my lord, by prolonging 
this examination. A telegram has just been delivered to 
me, imparting the happy news that the child is being 
brought here, and will arrive, if no accident occurs on the 
road, in three or four hours. The distance the person who 
has it in charge, has to travel is under thirty miles. It 
is now two o’clock. May I ask your lordship to adjourn 
the court till six o’clock, in order that the suspense which 
the accused is suffering from may not be prolonged during 
the coming night ? ” 

The judge : To spare her further suffering we would sit 
all night. Let the court be adjourned till six o’clock.” 

“ I thank your lordship. If the child arrives before six, 
may it be delivered to the accused ? ” 

“ It may. The officers will see see that the last two wit- 
nesses are in attendance.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


199 


Long before six the approaches to the courthouse were 
crowded with sympathizers, and the oldest inhabitant 
declared that such a scene of excitement had never been 
witnessed in the town. Men and women were eagerly 
discussing the wonderful trial, and, though the lady who 
had passed through an ordeal so terrible was a stranger to 
them, from one and all rose a chorus of thanksgiving at the 
turn it had taken. The strange news had been flashed over 
the telegraph wires through the entire kingdom, and the 
most distant newspapers were clamoring for further par- 
ticulars, and were eagerly awaiting a description of the 
final scene. There was, however, one rather dissatisfied 
person in the throng, and this was weak-witted Silly Thomas 
from Brentingham village, who was disposed to raise a 
complaint to Providence that he had not been called as a 
witness to prove his intimate knowledge of Rocky Reaches 
and the infallible manner in which the sea washed up its 
dead. 

The scene within the court was not less stirring. It was 
packed to the walls, and every man and woman therein, 
with the exception of some who were immediately inte- 
rested in the trial, was glowing with excitement. They 
were stirred to the depths by the occurrences of the day, 
but what they felt was not so clearly expressed in their 
countenances. The judge sat upon the seat of justice with 
pale, stern face, gazing before him apparently calm and 
unmoved, as though the part he was playing were merely 
judicial, and presented no features in which he was vitally 
concerned. Intense relief was visible in the face of Mr. 
Molesworth, the counsel for the defence, but he, also, was 


200 ^ FOR THE DEFENCE, 

apparently calm. In the dock sat the accused, with face 
pressed down to the face of her child, whom she was holding 
tight to her breast. 

The necessary formalities were quickly got through. 
The woman into whose charge Maxwell had given the child 
testified to its being brought to her by him on the night of 
the 25th of April. He had told her it was his own child, 
for whom he wished to find a home for a few months, and 
there was nothing in his manner which aroused her suspi- 
cions. Mrs. Tregartin identified the child, and the mother, 
also, had one question addressed to her. 

“ Is the child in your arms yours ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

There were no further speeches before the jury delivered 
their verdict. The judge said but a very few words, and 
when they pronounced the verdict, “ Not Guilty,” deafening 
cheers rose from the spectators, which, taken up without, 
made the streets ring again. No attempt was made for 
some time to restore order, but at length the judge held 
up liis hand, and “ Silence — silence ! ” was called by the 
ushers. A hush fell upon the assembly, and every head 
was craned forward to hear what was about to be said. 

The judge : “ I understand that the jury have something 
to add to the verdict.” 

The foreman ; “ We have, my lord. The jury desire 
me to express their abhorrence of the conduct of the two 
witnesses. Maxwell and Mr. Norman Richbell, and their 
hope that Government will take some means to punish 
them for the atrocity of which they have been guilty.” 

The judge : “ It is a proper hope, and shall be transmitted 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


201 


to the proper quarter. Before the court rises I have some- 
thing to say. In the course of this trial I made the remark 
that it was unprecedented. I thank God it is so. Never 
in the course of a long experience have I presided at a trial 
in which villainy so base has providentially been brought 
to light. The unhappy and tortured lady for whom no 
living being can entertain any but feelings of deepest 
sympathy and compassion, has been made the victim of as 
foul a plot as ever entered the mind of man. To one so 
delicate and sensitive and helpless the consequences, with- 
out the intervention of the law, might have been fatal. It 
is a mercy not only that her life has been spared, but that 
her reason has been saved. To the counsel who defended 
her I extend my admiration ; he has done well and worthily. 
But what shall I say of the wretches, Mr. Norman Richbell 
and Maxwell ? How can I express my opinion of their 
unutterable villainy ? They have earned the execration of 
mankind. The plot in which they engaged stamps them 
with odium which will cling to them to the last hour of 
their lives. It will be for the Crown to consider whether 
measures can be taken to punish the offenders whose 
actions might have led to the most serious consequences ; 
and let them and all other transgressors bear ever in mind 
that, sooner or later, their sins shall find them out.” 

These impressive words, impressively spoken, were lis- 
tened with awe and wonder, and when Mr. Justice Rich- 
bell gathered his robes about him, all who had heard him 
rose to their feet, as by one impulse, and gazed upon him 
in pity and respect as he passed from the court. 


202 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


w 

CHAPTER XXI. 

MR. JUSTICE RICHBELL BIDS FAREWELL TO BENCH AND BAR. 

The sensational incidents of this trial created great excite- 
ment. For many days the newspaper columns teemed with 
matter relating to it and to its further developments. 
Editors, reporters and correspondents rushed to the fray, 
and while general sympathy was expressed for Miss 
Leycester, general condemnation was bestowed upon the 
niiscreants to whose foul plot she had so nearly fallen a 
victim. After the fashion of the times these sentiments 
took various quixotic forms. There were proposals to start 
a fund to heal the wounds that had been inflicted, and two 
or three papers went so far as to commence the publica- 
tion of subscriptions. This direction of the public move- 
ment was effectually scotched by Mr. Molesworth, who 
wrote to the newspapers, stating that no fund was neces- 
sary, and that no money would be accepted by any person 
on his side connected with the trial. In his letter he said 
the greatest kindness and consideration that could be 
shown towards the lady he had defended would be that 
people should cease to take any interest in her affairs. 
“ Publicity is painful to her,” he wrote ; it keeps open a 
wound which time alone can heal.” With some papers 
this appeal had the desired effect ; with others it fell dead. 
Indeed, a few of the lower fry found theme in it for fresh 
comment and sensational headlines. The matter was 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


203 


public, and was too tempting a morsel to be allowed to 
die out. Offers of marriage were publicly made, and 
more than one music-hall manager wrote, asking upon 
what terms she would appear at their establishments. 
Failing a satisfactory response, failing, indeed, any answer 
whatever to these insulting propositions, songs were writ- 
ten and sung in the music-halls, the most popular of which 
was one entitled, “ For the Defence.” Apart from the per- 
sonal feelings which Mr. Molesworth entertained on the 
subject of publicity, this ditty and others were a direct 
compliment to him. In every circle of society his con- 
duct was eulogized, and he could have ridden upon this 
wave of popularity to fame and fortune. But he had other 
views, and steadily refused every brief that was offered to 
him. 

It was a meritorious feature in this sea of excitement 
that Mr. Justice Richbell’s name . was not mentioned in 
papers of the higher class, and his action not commented 
upon, the cause of silence being the respect and esteem in 
which the eminent judge was held. But, as with all other 
public men, he had his enemies, and these did not spare 
him. It was not uncommon to see at the head of columns 
of comment, such introductory words as, “ What will Mr. 
Justice Richbell do ? ” “ What Mr. Justice Richbell ought 

to do.” “ What the Government ought to do,” But for the 
present, as far as the public knew, the judge did nothing; 
he simply kept himself in retirement. 

Presently another exciting feature was added to the 
matter by the' announcement that the judge’s son, Mr. 
Norman Richbell had made his escape from prison, and 


204 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


that no trace of him could be discovered. Then the fury 
of the judge’s enemies rose to the highest pitch. Here 
was a miscreant who had been engaged in an abominable 
conspiracy. Because he was the son of a judge should 
he be allowed to evade the just punishment for his mis- 
deeds? Dastardly attacks were made upon Mr. Justice 
Richbell ; it was hinted that he himself had connived at 
his son’s escape. Several weeks passed by, during which 
other startling events claimed record in newspaper columns 
and occupied the place of honor therein. It was not till 
four months had elapsed that the dying embers of the 
trial flickered again into flame. It was announced that on 
a certain morning, in the Court of the Lord Chief Justice, 
Mr. Justice Richbell would take leave of the Bar on his 
retirement from the Bench. “ At length,” said his enemies, 
“ he has been forced to adopt the only course that was 
open to him.” But in the use of the word forced ” these 
writers were distinctly in error. 

In any event the retirement of so eminent a judge would 
have been suflicient to crowd the court, but the strange 
and startling episodes of the last important trial in which 
he had been engaged rendered the scene more imposing 
than any of a like character within the memory of man. 
The names of those present occupied a quarter of a column 
of the “ Times ” newspaper, and every name set down was 
a name of mark. The Attorney-General, in a most im- 
pressive speech, spoke of the deep and general regret which 
the announcement of the retirement had caused. He 
recalled certain incidents in the distinguished career of the 
learned judge which could never be forgotten, not only 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


205 


because they reflected, honor upon the man, but because 
they formed a lasting and noble tribute to the integrity of 
the judge. He assured the subject of his eloquent remarks 
that never within his experience, nor within the experience 
of all who listened to him, had the retirement of a Chief 
caused sorrow so profound, and he begged the learned 
judge to believe that he would take with him the affection 
and esteem of every member of the Bar and Bench. It 
was a lengthy and touching speech, and from its opening 
to its closing sentence murmurs of sympathetic approval 
betokened that he was expressing not alone his own senti- 
ments, but the sentiments of all who listened to him. 
Upon the event that led to the retirement he spoke not a 
word. 

At the conclusion of this address Mr. Justice Richbell 
remained for some moments silent. That he was suffering 
inwardly was clear, and it was as clear that he was making a 
strong effort to preserve that outward calmness of demeanor 
by which he had always been distinguished. When he 
spoke it was in a low distinct voice. 

The opening of his speech, which was much shorter 
than such an event generally calls for, was devoted to the 
expression of reciprocal sentiments of affection and esteem 
towards all with whom in the course of his career he had, 
been associated. He begged them to believe that they 
would hold an enduring place in his mind and in his heart, 
and that he should ever look back to his connection with 
them as supplying the brightest recollections of an arduous 
life. ‘‘ It is not given to any man,” he said, to live free 
from error, be he the highest or the lowest in station, and 


2o6 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


I, no doubt, have been as fallible as others of my fellow- 
men. But I may claim for myself that in the exercise .of 
my functions I have held steadily before me the principles 
of justice, and that, during the years I have occupied my 
honorable place on the Bench, I have never deviated from 
them. To me they have been sacred and immutable, and 
I have never allowed a selfish or personal consideration to 
divert me from the solemn pledge I made with myself when 
it pleased Her Majesty to select me for the judicial otece I 
have filled. This reflection will be a comfort and a conso- 
lation to me when I pass from this scene. I may be par- 
doned for stating here that it was my wish to retire three 
months ago, and that, had it not been for the reluctance of 
the Lord Chancellor to accept my resignation — a reluctance 
which I esteem as one of the highest honors that have 
been paid to me — my wish would have been carried out 
almost immediately after I expressed it. My lords, Mr. 
Attorney-General, and Gentlemen of the Bar, I wish you 
a respectful and affectionate Farewell.” 

Thus closed the judicial career of Mr. Justice Richbell. 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


207 


CHAPTER XXII. 

GOOD-BYE TO ENGLAND. 

Some three months after this event Richard Molesworth 
and his friend Andrew Denver were closeted together in 
the latter’s chambers, where they had been dining. The 
table was cleared, and they were sitting over their cigars 
and claret. Since the trial they had seen very little 
of each other, some unexpected business in connection 
with a legacy left to-him by a relative in Jamaica having 
taken Denver from England, and kept him absent until 
this day. There had been correspondence between the 
friends, and it had appeared strange to Denver that Moles- 
worth had made no mention of Miss Leycester in any one 
of his letters. He himself had asked after her, but Moles- 
worth had consistently evaded the subject by saying that 
he would wait till they met in London to explain matters, 
that things were not yet arranged, and that he would wait 
until they were, et cetera^ et cetera^ et cetera. This was not 
exactly satisfactory to Denver, but being at so great a dis- 
tance he was forced to content himself as best he could. 

“ And now, Dick,” said Denver, “ perhaps you will tell 
me all about it.” 

Mr. Molesworth nodded, and looked thoughtfully at his 
friend. 

I cannot tell you,” he said “ how glad I am that you 
have returned.” 


2o8 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


‘‘Yes, of course,” said Denver, “ and I am quite as glad 
to be with you again, but I want to speak first of other 
things.” 

“Yes, Andrew,” said Mr. Molesvvorth, and just then said 
no more. 

“ Have you been taking lessons from the Sphynx ? ” 
inquired Denver. “ I see plainly I shall get no satisfac- 
tion out of you without a cross-examination. How is Miss 
Leycester?” 

“ In health, fairly well.” 

“ In spirits ? ” 

“ Not so well ; but there is now a brighter outlook, and 
I have hopes that before long she will be something like 
her old self again.” 

“ Still enigmatical. And the child ? ” 

“ She has lost it.” 

“Dead, Dick?” 

“ Dead, Andrew.” 

“ Ah, that is the cause of her being low-spirited.” 

“ Partly. Shadows of sad memories will hang over her 
for some time to come, but even these I hope eventually 
to dispel.” 

“For Heaven’s sake speak plainer, Dick, or I’ll shy this 
glass at your head. First, though. About yourself ? ” 

He cast a curious glance at his friend. 

“ In what respect? ” asked Mr. Molesworth. 

“ In respect of Miss Leycester.” 

“ You want to know if my feelings have changed towards 
her. They have not. I love her as devotedly as ever.” 

“ And she ? ” 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 

I dare not approach the subject yet, but I think she 
understands me.” 

“ Faithful old Dick ! ” 

I can be that, if nothing else. Faithful to friendship, 
faithful to love. Throw the end of that cigar away. Light 
another ; I will do the same, and you shall know all.” 

The fresh cigars were lighted, and Mr. Molesworth 
resumed : — 

“ There is no happiness for her here, Andrew. I sus- 
pected from the first there would not be, and I knew it for 
a certainty within a short time after her release. I kept the 
newspapers from her, but she felt that she was being made 
the subject of public comment, and with her delicate nature 
she shrank from such publicity. She hardly dared make 
her appearance in the streets ; she thought every person 
who looked at her was acquainted with her story. I went to 
the core of the matter, and had some private conversations 
with her mother, from whom I have not disguised my feel- 
ings. I am glad to tell you she encourages them, and looks 
forward, as I do, to happier days. In the course of these 
conversations I learnt from Mrs. Leycester that she had a 
brother in Gipps Land from whom she had not heard for 
years. He is a squatter there ; has cattle galore, and is 
reputed fairly well to do. This I discovered later, not so 
very long ago, indeed. Obtaining this brother’s address 
from Mrs. Leycester I wrote to him. He replied. The 
upshot of it is, that he has'' offered Mrs. Leycester and her 
daughter a home with him. They have nothing to blind 
them here.” 

Except you, Dick.” 


210 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


Yes, except me ; but I intend to get over that diffi- 
culty.” 

Are they going out to the good brother, Dick ? ” 

“ They are going out to the good brother, Andrew ? ” 

“ And you ? ” 

I am going in the same ship.” 

A sad expression appeared on Denver’s face. “ So I am 
going to lose you, old friend ? ” 

“ It is decreed, Andrew ; unless you come out with me.” 

Not possible, Dick. The affairs of that legacy — con- 
found all legacies ! say I — will compel me to make another 
voyage to Jamaica. I am tied for a year or more, I am 
afraid.” 

“ But after that ? ” 

“ After that, we shall see. Before then I shall hear what 
reports you have to make. I might do worse. What are 
your plans ? ” 

I have an idea of buying a share in a cattle station 
myself. It would be a rare look-out for you and me, 
Andrew. The old world is used up. Try the new.” 

“ I shall bear it in mind. More unlikely things have hap- 
pened. Does Miss Leycester know — but of course she 
does.” 

Know what ? ” 

“ That you are going out with her ? ” 

“ I think not.” 

Denver stared at his friend. “ It is a plot of your own 
invention, then.” 

“ Not entirely. Mrs. Leycester is in it — and Mrs. Ley- 
cester approves.” 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


211 


“ I trust your faithfulness will be rewarded, Dick.” 

“ I do not despair.” 

“ When does the ship sale ? ” 

“ The day after to-morrow, All my preparations are 
made. I leave London for Plymouth to-morrow after- 
noon.’ 

“ So soon ? ” There was a little silence ; the two men 
looked tenderly at each other. “ I can’t blame you, Dick ; 
I should do the same myself. So this is our last night to- 
gether.” 

“ For some time to come, at least. It will depend upon 
you. As with us, Andrew, you have nothing to bind you 
here. Purse full, heart free, your old friend waiting for 
you in the new world. We shall miss each other ; you 
have been a true friend. I shudder to think what might 
have been the result of the trial had it not been for you. 
Come down to Plymouth with me to-morrow. Miss Ley- 
cester will be glad to shake hands with you. She knows 
what we owe you.” 

“ Yes, Dick, I will come down with you.” 

They sat up talking till late in the night, and parted 
with renewed expressions of affection.” 

On the deck of the good ship Petronel ” stood a little 
group, consisting of Mrs. Leycester and her daughter 
Margaret, and the friends Richard Molesworth and Andrew 
Denver. The last adieus were being made. 

In Mrs. Leycester’s eyes rested a look of content ; her 
arm was round her daughter’s waist : the two ladies were 
in black. 


2t2 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


As he gazed at the young girl Denver thought he had 
never beheld a more beautiful face, and he did not wonder 
at his friend’s devotion. Time had tempered the agony 
depicted there when he last saw her in court during her 
terrible hours of trial. Peace was coming to her. But 
grief was still tugging at her heartstrings. The parting 
from her faithful champion was so near ! In a few mo- 
ments he would be lost to her— perhaps for ever ! 

The friends of the passengers were ordered ashore. The 
vessel was beginning to move towards the ocean. Friends 
and relatives were tearing themselves from each other, and 
coming back, and pressing heart to heart. “ And don’t 
forget us ! ” “ And be sure you write ! ” “ God bless and 
speed you ! ” “ God bless you — God bless you ! ” Hearts 
were throbbing ; eyes were brimming over. 

“ All ashore ! ” 

I must wish you good-bye,” said Andrew Denver to 
Mrs. Leycester. 

“ Good-bye, dear friend,” she said, giving him her hand. 

“ I hope you will be happy — I am sure you will be 
happy.” 

The words were spoken as much to Margaret as to her 
mother. 

“ The young lady held out her hand. 

“ God bless you for your kindness,” she said, and held 
her head down to hide her tears. 

But, man though he was, every inch of him, and true, 
and sincere, her tears were not flowing for him. He knew 
that well, and he was glad : there was no envy in his 
heart, though he mentally breathed a wish that he might 


FOR THE DEFENCE, 


213 

some day meet with another woman as lovely and sweet 
as she who stood before him. 

She turned towards her champion, and slowly raised her 
hand. The word “ farewell ” was on her lips, but she 
could not utter it. 

“ Well, let us get it over, Dick. Good-bye, dear old 
friend, and Heaven’s own luck go with you ! ” 

“ Good-bye, Andrew. Make up your mind to join us. 
God bless you, dear boy ! ” 

Hand tightly clasped in hand a moment, and then 
Denver tore himself away. 

Had she heard aright ? These two friends bidding each 
other good-bye ? One for the land, one for the sea 1 What 
did it mean ? 

“ Mr. Molesworth ” 

“ Yes, Madge ? ” 

She looked helplessly, pitifully, this way and that. To 
tell him it was time he should leave her ! How could she 
do it — how could she do it? It seemed that never until 
this moment had she understood what was in her heart. 

All ashore ! All ashore ! Now, then, please. You 
haven’t another moment unless you want to be carried out 
to sea ! Look out there ! ” 

The s 5 .ilors were singing. Andrew Denver was climbing 
down to the boat. And still her champion did not move. 
He saw the suspense, the suffering in her lovely face. 
Madge, you must not be angry with me ! ” 

I can never be that I Oh. Mr. Molesworth, tell me 
what it all means ? ” 

“ It means, dear, that I am going with you to the new 
land, to the new home in the brighter world ” 


214 


FOR THE DEFENCE. ' 


Going with me to the new land ! ” 

‘‘ You must not send me away, Madge, for I haven’t 
another place but this ship to put my head in. Do you 
think I could let you go alone ? Will you forgive me ? ” 
She raised her eyes to his, and through her tears looked 
tenderly at him. He took her hand, and she did not with- 
draw it. 

“There is Andrew Denver, Madge, looking up at us 
from the boat. Good-bye once more, old friend.” 

They waved their hands to him, and he returned the 
salutation, and gazed brightly at them. 

“ That’s all right,” he said, mentally hugging himself. 
“ Good luck to them 1 ” 


THE DEFENCE, 


215 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

FROM THE NEW WORLD TO THE OLD. 

Twelve months after the “ Petronel ” sailed from Ply- 
mouth for Australia, Andrew Denver, having wound up^ 
all the affairs relating to the legacy that had been left to 
him, received the following letter from Richard Moles- 
worth : 

“ My Dear Andrew, 

What a glorious life this is out here ! I, am fairly in 
love with it, and so will you be when you are enjoying it with me. 
For I depend upon you, old fellow. No shirking out of it, mind, oi 
you’ll repent it all your days. Your letter, received yesterday, glad- 
dened my heart. It is not half a promise — I don’t accept it as such j 
it is a whole promise. By the time you are reading this you will have 
finished your bothersome business, and there will be nothing to detain 
you. We are waiting for you — all of us, 

“ I do not intend to write you a long letter ; only to give you some 
news that will interest you. ^ There are two important items in it — 
one, a picture in black shadow ; the other, a picture in bright light. 
One, night ; the other, morning. 

“ I will get rid of the shadow first. 

“Within six miles of the home station is a great stretch of bush 
land. You can ride as the crow flies twenty odd miles before you 
come to the end of it, and, when you do, look out, for you are on the 
borders of Nuggety Ranges. To the east, to the west, to the north 
they lie, rocks piled upon rocks, declivity gliding into declivity, a 
shallow basin here, waves of rocks ahead of it, to the right of it, to 
the left of it, for Heaven knows .how many miles all round. And they 
are all the same. You walk a mile, and you see no difference in the 
scene around you from the spot you started from ; you walk five miles, 
and you view the same scene. There is absolutely no landmark, and 
a man who does not know the stars may say his prayers there, as many 


2i6 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


have done already. Whitening human bones of men who have lost 
their way in this fearful wilderness of stone have been found again and 
again. To think of the tortures they must have endured before merci- 
ful death relieved them makes one’s blood run cold. 

“ Some of our cattle had strayed. Away we went, Jim the Bush- 
man (one of our stock-riders) and I, in search of them. ‘ In which 
direction, Jim?’ I ask. He points with his whip, first to the ground, 
then straight ahead. What he sees on the ground I leave to him ; I 
see nothing But straight ahead of us, in the direction he is pointing, 
lie Nuggety Ranges. Off we gallop. 

He tracks the cattle unerringly, and we do the twenty-four miles 
in two hours and a half, reaching the borders of Nuggety Ranges be- 
fore eleven o’clock a.m. We are early birds, here in this life-giving 
land. There are still two bullocks missing, and they are among the 
Ranges. We soon track them, and are driving them back, cracking 
our stockwhips with a'snap they can almost hear at the home station, 
when Jim suddenly pulls up, and jumps off his horse. I follow suit. 
And there before us lies a man, stone dead. ‘ He hasn’t been dead 
two hours,’ says Jim. I do not ask how he knows. When Jim makes 
a statement, we accept it. He is infallible. Andrew, I will not pile 
up the agony. The dead man’s face would have been immediately 
familiar to me, could I have seen it, but the tangled hair about it made 
it at first strange to me Little by little I recognized it. It was the face 
of Mr. Norman Richbell. And upon searching his pockets, it was 
confirmed. God knows how he came there. From the day of his es- 
cape from prison nothing has been heard of him. He must have made 
his way to Australia, and here the judgment of the Eternal overtook 
him. I enclose the papers we found upon him. It will be a mercy to 
take them to his father. Say that we gave him burial, and said a 
prayer over his grave, imploring mercy for him, a sinner. 

‘‘ Was I glad? I dare not answer the question. The life of this 
man stood in my path, blocking the road to happiness. I knew it, al- 
though Margaret did not speak of it ; but there are some things we do 
not need to be told. Every day of my life my love for her grew deeper 
and stronger — and yet she held back. It was the memory of this man, 
this living man, that prevented her from falling into my arms. And 
now he was dead. ^ 

‘‘ Gradually I broke the newsdo her, and said no more awhile. I 
will not disguise from you that I brought all my wisdom to bear upon 
this vital question of the happiness of my life. It was not possible that 
I could keep myself from showing my love for her ; she has seen it all 


FOR THE DEFENCE. 


217 

through, and so has every one around, so I bided my time, while the 
dear angel devoted herself to prayer. 

Yesterday, before your letter arrived, I took heart of grace, and 
spoke outright. She listened to me in silence, deeply moved, her dear 
head cast down ; but I saw the dew on her lashes. I told her how I loved 

her, how the happiness of my life depended upon her Well, well, 

why should I weary you with the love scene ? I could not, if I would, 
recall what passed ; only here and there, a look, a word. 

“ Andrew, dear friend, she has promised to be my wife. I am 
in heaven. You will be too late for the wedding if you take ship 
the moment my letter is delivered to you. In two months from the 
date hereof my dear Madge will be my wife. 

“We all unite in affectionate regards to the dear friend who 
stood by us, who worked for us, in the dark days that are passed. 
May Heaven shed its blessings upon him, and grant him just such 
a happy future as stretches before my dear girl and me. 

“Your faithful Friend, 

“ Richard Molesworth.” 


THE END. 



THE STORY OF JAEL 


BY 

S. BARING GOULD 









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THE STORY OF JAEL. 


CHAPTER I. 

GULL-FI,EET. 

The river Come, once upon a time, was seized with the 
desire of being a second Nile. We are speaking of course 
of that praehistoric age in which imagination runs riot, and 
sets down all its fancies as facts. The Nile brings down 
mud which it deposits over the surface of Egypt, and 
fertilizes it. Mud ! thought the Colne, I can do a neat 
thing in mud. I can beat the Nile in the amount of slimy 
material I can bring on my waters and cast down where 
my waters reach. But it was not in mud that the Nile 
was to be equalled and excelled. A delta ! thought the 
Colne. I can delticulate — a praehistoric verb and passable 
— into any number of mouths. Then the Colne proceeded 
near its embouchure to ramify in various directions, like a 
fan. But the attempt proved a failure, and in the end the 
Colne was forced to find her way to the sea through a single 
channel out of the many abortive ones she had run, leaving 
these latter some longer, some shorter, all smothering them- 
selves in mud, and annually contracting. The Colne in 
the world of rivers is an instance of the great pretence and 
poor execution, and has its counterpart in the world of 


men. 


222 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


Crafty millers have cast their eyes on these channels, 
and have run dams across their extremities with sluices in 
them, and when the tide flows into the creeks and flushes 
them full, it pours up through the sluice gate and brims 
the basin beyond ; but when the water tries to return with 
the ebb. No, no, says the miller, you come as you will, you 
go as I choose ! The trap is shut, and the water is caught 
and allowed to run away as the miller orders, and is made 
to turn a wheel and grind corn before it goes. 

That water as it trickles down the empty channel blush- 
ing brown with humiliation, finds that channel which ere- 
while was an arm of green and glittering water, deteriorated 
into a gulf of ill-savored ooze, alive with gulls chattering, 
leaping, fluttering, arguing, gobbling. 

At the mouth of the Colne, and yet not on it, nor on the 
sea, but lost and entangled among the creeks that end in 
mud-smother, lies the port of Brightlingsea. The name it 
takes from its first settler, Brit-helm, the Dane with the 
bright helmet by which he was known, who ran his boat 
across an arm of the sea, and squatted on what was then 
an island. It was Brithelm’s Isle ; but now it is no more 
an island. One long creek runs past it for several miles 
eastward to St. Osyth’s Priory, and almost reaches the 
ocean, perhaps at one day it may have done so. Another, 
in an opposite direction, cuts across the land to the Maldon 
river; and actually reaches the great bay of the Black water, 
so that in its mid channel the tides meet, and strike each 
other in their wavelets angrily. And again, another above 
Brightlingsea runs behind the little port and tries to reach 
the sea, and did reach it in historic times, but is now stopped 
by a causeway and a miller’s dam. ' That road marks the 
spot where Brithelm’s boat crossed in ancient days. In 
later times a causeway was carried over on piles, driven 
into the ooze, and then the sea began to choke itself at the 
extremity, and to deposit banks of mud behind the cause- 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


223 

way, which finally became dry land, and so Brithelm’s Isle 
ceased to be an Isle. 

Nowadays, it is along this road that the Brightlingsea 
people have to go when they drive or walk to the market 
town of Colchester, and a very long detour it obliges them 
to make. When a railway was run by a private company 
up the river, it was carried across the mouth of this creek 
three miles down over a timber bridge, but as boats were 
accustomed to enter the channel and run up to the quay by 
the mill, the bridge was fashioned so as to open and allow 
a small craft to pass through. Then to make sure that the 
bridge was complete for the train to pass across it, a guard 
or pointsman was stationed in a wooden hut near the end 
of the bridge, whose duty it was to let the boats through, 
and also to close the bridge again for the passage of the 
train. 

Conceive of an express rushing along the bridge whilst a 
schooner was in the act of passing, and consider to which 
would the encounter be the most unpleasant. The object 
in life set before the pilot of the bridge over GulhFleet was 
to prevent such encounters. 

That railway from Brightlingsea up the Colne went no 
further than the next village, Wyvenhoe, where it touched 
the G.E.R., but was there ever among coy railways such a 
coquette as this little affair ? It sidled up to the burly, 
stately G.E.R., and said, “ Take me on,” and “ Let us love 
one another,” and then, when the G.E.R. grunted, and 
puffed, and said, ‘‘ I don’t particularly like you, I don’t — 
to be plain — see much good in you,” then this little pouting 
Mignon went into sulks, and turned her back on the G.E.R. 
and said, “ You nasty, ugly monster, I hate you ! I can 
have my own puff-puffs ! I will have my own dear little 
cosy station, and my own servants — ofiicials in my own 
livery.” So the little coquette set up her. private establish- 
ment, and got to spending money lavishly, and, it was 
whispered, but the whisper may have been wicked scandal — 


224 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


got dipped. So then she set up a little scream from the 
whistles of one of her little engines, and drew a long puff, 
and cast two piteous little lines of rail towards the G.E.R., 
and said, not in words, but by gestures, “ I have been 
naughty, take me on, on your own terms.” Then the G.E.R. 
grandly put out his hand to her and took her. Now, at 
the time when our story moves its course, this little absurd, 
coy little railway was not married to G.E.R., but was only 
coughing to draw attention to her, and making signals that 
meant, if they meant anything, “ Come to my help, dear 
duck of a G.E.R.” But G.E.R. was looking another way, 
to Walton, and had shut his ears and would not hear the 
appeals. And the little B. and W.R. was unhappy, and a 
little careless about the times it kept, and the charges it 
made, and did capricious things which old and well-con- 
ducted railways would never think of doing. But B. and 
W.R. was in a sulky mood, and didn’t care what it did, 
didn’t care what folks said, didn’t care to do its duty, and 
seemed to have lost all moral discrimination between right 
and wrong. 

But there was one point on which the B. and W. R. did 
not fail, and that was in the maintenance of the pilot at 
Gull-Fled^t Bridge. It let the paint come off its wood-work, 
and the waiting-rooms be without fire, and diminished its 
staff to a sort of maid-of-all-work, who sold tickets, station- 
mastered, stoked and poked, and acted as guard — but it 
never gave notice to quit to the pilot, Shamgar Tapp. 

On the marsh in the sun on a blazing summer day, lay 
the daughter of the said Shamgar Tapp, a tall, handsome 
girl — tall when standing up_, handsome always — playing 
with a tame gull. 

The marsh was now dry and hard. It is a track of turf 
with veins and arteries ramifying through it, that flush 
with water at high tide, the refluence of the Colne river 
rolled back by the invading sea. But the turf itself is not 
overflowed except at neap tides. Now it was baked to the 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


225 


consistency of brick, and the thrift that grew over it was 
in flower, from white to pink in satiny shades that flickered 
and shifted with every breath of air over the water. The 
girl’s name was Jael, and she came by it in this way : 
When Mrs. Tapp presented her husband with a daughter. 

The finest and biggest she-baby as ever was or ought to 
be,” said her intimate friend, Mrs. Bagg, who nursed her, 
Mrs. Tapp thought she had done enough for Shamgar and 
the world, and shrank from the rearing of the finest and 
biggest she-baby into a big and masculine girl, so she gave 
her husband and baby and nurse the slip, and left them to 
make the best of life without her. 

“ And now,” said Shamgar, “what the dooce am I to do 
with this wopping baby ! I wish it had pleased the Lord 
to leave Clementina ” (that was his wife) “ and take the 
baby.” He looked at the creature then smacking its lips. 
“ What in the world shall I do with it ? If it were oyster- 
spat I’d know what to do with it. I’d put it on a light 
gravelly bottom, and see it didn’t get choked with mud, 
and may be, now and again, feed it with barley-meal. But 
a real live rampaging and roaring female baby, and so big 
too ! What ever shall I do ? And as to naming it. It 
don’t look a Clementina, there is black hair on its thing of 
a head ; and my Clementina had fair hair, a sort of a par- 
snip, and pale eyes, and this thing has eyes that look about 
to be as dark as mine. It don’t seem to me to have any 
elements of a name ending in ina about it. I know what 
I’ll do. I’ll go to Scripture. I’ll see in the book of Judges 
whether Shamgar the son of Anath, the which slew of the 
Philistines six hundred men with an ox-goad. What was 
I saying? oh ! — whether my Scriptural ancestor, or what- 
ever he was, had a daughter, and if he had, what was her 
name ? ” 

Then he pulled down his Bible, not a book much read, 
as might be seen by the cleanness of the edges and the 
dustiness of the cover. 


15 


226 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


“ I can’t see that he had,” mused Shamgar, studying the 
book, with his dark, bushy brows contracted. “ In the days 
of Shamgar, the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the 
highways were unoccupied. What was the relation in 
which they stood to one another is not particularized ; but 
as Jael became the wife of Heber, and struck a tent-peg 
through the temples of Sisera long after Shamgar was gone 
to glory, I guess she was his daughter. Therefore, and so 
because — you darned blustering, howling babe — Jael shall 
you be. Amen.” 

Seventeen years had passed, and Jael, from being a big 
babe, had grown into a big girl — strong, finely built, who* 
strode about the marshes, leaped the tidal runs, shouted to 
the gulls and skuas and the kittiwakes that flew about the 
flats, and had a face a nutty brown, and black, thick hair, 
cut short like a boy’s, and lips red as “ butter-haves.” Do 
you know what butter-haves are ? They are the rose hips 
in the hedges. That is their Essex name. 

An idle girl was Jael, brought up to no particular work. 
She did, indeed, in a fashion, manage her father’s house, 
but that house was very small, and his demands not great. 
The major portion of her day was spent racing over the 
marshes, playing with the gull, sometimes bathing in the 
‘‘ fleet,” where there was a “hard” or gravelly bed, some- 
times rowing, and when at home sometimes quarrelling 
with her father. 

He was a headstrong man, and she was a headstrong 
girl. He a man full of passion and will ; and she — one 
could see it in the swelling dark veins, in the sharp-cut, 
contracting nostrils, in the flashing eyes — a very little was 
needed, a few years, maybe only a few months, a hard 
opposition to her will, a great wrong, and the girl would 
flare and rage as her father flared and raged. 

If one could have stood over her now, like the sun, and 
looked down into her face, one would not have been sur- 
prised at the sun looking so long and ardently at it. The 


THE STORY OF JARL. 


227 


brow was broad and low, but the curling, glossy dark hair 
over it made it look lower than it really was. The dark 
eyebrows were arched and the lashes long. Under them 
were splendid, eager, brown eyes, set within these long 
lashes. The lower part of the face was oval. Those red, 
merry lips were, when smiling, accompanied by deep, 
satellite dimples in the gold-brown cheeks. 

As she lay on the marsh turf, with her knees up, she 
held her hands above her face, not to screen the sun from 
it, but to serve as a perch for the gull, and a protection to 
her eyes from his beak. 

“ Again,” she said, “ come. Jack, again ! You missed last 
time,” and she put a piece of bread between her lips and 
threw the bird into the air. 

It fluttered about her, using its wings without confidence, 
for a couple of pin-feathers had been clipped, in one, and 
yet not enough to prevent it from rising and taking a short 
flight. The white bird hovered, lurched, wheeled over her, 
casting shadows across her face, and then made a sudden 
drop and drive at her lips. Instantly, she struck and sent 
the bird back into the air, and, as the gull screamed with 
mortification, she laughed joyously. As she laughed the 
bit of bread fell out of her mouth. 

“ Here ! ” she called, “ Jack, here is another. Come, boy, 
don’t be beaten. Try again. What! Skulking? No, no. 
Jack ! Once more. Ha-ha, old fellow I Supposing some 
other, and bigger Jacks, some day make a dash at my lips ! 
Sha’n’t I only beat them away ? Ay, old bird, with a much 
rougher stroke than I give you. Psha 1 I’ve hit away 
some of your breast feathers, and they are falling about 
me like snow ! Ah — ” she made a strqke with both hands 
now, and started up — “ you mean, cowardly creature I That 
was a peck at my eyes 1 Jack, you might have blinded me ! 
Jack, that was not fair I You do not understand fun. 
You lose your temper. I had not put the bread between 
my lips, and was unprepared for you, and down you dive at 


228 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


my eyes. Spite, old bird ! Wicked bird ! Spite, that ! 
You shall not do that again.” 

She sprang to her feer. 

“ Now — ^you rascal, you ! ” she exclaimed, threatening the 
gull, which had settled at her feet on the ground. “ I shall 
not forget and forgive that. I hate meanness. I hate 
cowardice, and it was cowardly of you to strike at my eyes 
when I was not expecting you. Come, Jack, hop on my 
hand, and now, fair play. I will put the bread in my lips, 
and you shall peck and try to take it — without flying, and 
I without striking. I will hold my other hand behind my 
back. No ! Tired of playing ? Very well. I bear no 
malice \ let us kiss and be chums.” She had put her right 
hand behind her, and had raised the left, on the wrist of 
which sat the gull, expanding and closing its wings balan- 
cing itself as she changed her position. All at once Jael’s 
right hand was caught, a hand was thrust under her chin, 
her face was turned up, and a kiss pressed on her lips. 

Then a laugh and she was let go. “ Pecked and got my 
ripe fruit, and made friends,” was shouted in her ear. She 
turned, flaming with anger and shame to the roots of her 
hair, and saw before her a young man in a blue jersey, and 
dark blue breeches, and a straw hat on his head. 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


229 


CHAPTER II. 

A PAIR OF JAYS. 

That was the beginning of their acquaintance, or friend- 
ship, or love affair. I say or, not afid, because it was not 
acquaintanceship and friendship and love in one, or in rapid 
development from one to the other. The tie between them 
was elastic, sometimes very close, sometimes very loose ; 
sometimes it was real love, and sometimes only cold, 
nodding acquaintance. The reason for this variation of 
relation was to be sought in Jael, not in Jeremiah Mustard. 

Jael was impulsive, hot and capricious. Sometimes she 
quarrelled with Jeremiah, as — it must be confessed — she 
quarrelled with her father, and as — but that was allowable 
— she quarrelled with her gull. 

It is a curious fact that man — and woman also — is never 
contented with what he has, but always wishes for what he 
has not ; grumbles at what is, and desires what is not ; and 
pants with unutterable longing for what cannot be. The 
artist who paints exquisitely sulks over his pictures and 
craves to be a musician, and curses his folly when he was a 
boy in not practising his fingers on the piano j and the 
sailor wants to be a soldier, and the soldier longs for a deck 
and the blue sea ; and the girl’s ideal of happiness is to be 
a wife, and the wife sighs to be an unencumbered maiden 
again ; and the first fiddle in the great orchestra of life 
envies the cornopean, and the cornopean longs for the 
double bass, and the man who saws on that elephantine 
instrument is conscious how absurd he looks poking his 
head from behind the great stem, and sighs ‘ I want to be 
a fluter ! ’ and the conductor is disgusted at swaying the 


230 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


batoUi and would like to sit in the audience ; and in the 
audience those in the reserved seats say that the only 
situation for hearing the music properly is back in the 
shilling or sixpenny places, and those in the rear growl 
because they are where the draught creeps round their feet 
and ears, and their benches are uncushioned, and — because 
they are not in the fauteuils reserved for the wealthy. 

So was it with Shamgar Tapp. He was condemned by 
his profession as pilot over Gull-Fleet to be always at his 
post — to have indeed a very light task, but a monotonous 
and trying one — and his soul was full of ambition to see 
the world, to visit Asia, Africa and America. Why should 
every young cub at Brightlingsea be able to follow his 
desires and go in a sailing craft somewhere, and see some- 
thing beyond the flat coast of Essex, and sea, purer, bluer 
than the estuary of the Colne ? 

“ I’ve heard tell,” said Mr. Shangar Tapp, “ that there be 
black people — niggers. Why am I never to set my eyes 
on a nigger? Why has Providence so ordained that I can 
never go sailing to Africa, and see niggers ? — Or — if that 
be too much — why doesn’t niggers come here and show 
theirselves off to me ? There was a parcel of ’em came to 
Colchester and performed on the banjo and knuckle-bones 
there, but I couldn’t go. I must stay here, and mind the 
bridge — always so. Everything in' this world goes con- 
trary. The parson, he came here t’other day, and said we 
couldn’t expect to have everything in this world. No, I 
dare say not — but shall I see niggers in the world to come ? 
I doubt but such as go there will have left their black skins 
behind them, and there’ll be a pretty state of things for 
me — never seen a nigger in all my life, and never a chance 
of seeing any for all eternity. It isn’t,” argued Shamgar, 
“ the nigger himself I care for so much ; it is that I want 
to satisfy my mind about him. Frqm all I can see, the 
sun burns us brown, just the same as roasting coffee or 
doing a chop ; it don’t make smut of us. Well, I believe 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


231 


— and till I see and satisfy myself with my own eyes, I 
will believe — that the real nigger is a sort of a deep red 
brown — a very dark chestnut ; but as for being black — 
real black — get along ! ” 

Tapp was working the crank turning the bridge, which 
had been opened to allow of a boat laden with straw to 
pass out with the falling tide. 

“ What are reason and the faculty of observation given 
to a man for, if they are to lead him to knock his nose 
against stone walls, or lose his way in a marsh ? Doesn’t 
reason, and the light of nature, and daily observation show 
that the sun browns the skin, and doesn’t blacken ? The 
sun black a man’s skin as a shoe-boy blacks a boot ! — get 
along ! ” ■ 

The bridge was closed, the lines united. 

“ Life is made up of contrarinesses,” said Tapp ; “ else why 
should I have been left a widower with that rollicking she- 
baby — that Jael to bring up. Lord ! what a bother 1 had 
with her, and spoon-feeding and teething, and now — she’ll 
be running after all the boys. That’s the way with gals. 
Then there’s her money, that is, her mother’s money ; it 
was thirty-eight pounds, but I’ve made' it up to forty ; the 
which is potted and put away. I’ll go and see it is all 
right.” 

He took his spade and went into the marsh ; at one spot 
known only to himself he removed the turf. “ Right it is,” 
said Tapp. ‘‘ Forty pounds all in gold. I’m not a fool to 
trust that to banks and speculators, and sink in railways, 
and put into funds that goes * up and down, up and down, 
like a ship’s deck, and may go down, down some day 
altogether. Not 1. There is the pot — an old preserved 
ginger pot, and forty sovereigns in it — Jael’s own money. 
I’ll give it her when she marries, and I’ve seen the back of 
her.” 

“ Look there ! ” said Jael, touching the arm of Jeremiah 
— they were together, sitting under a thorn-tree on the 


232 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


land above the marsh. “ Father’s looking at my treasure. 
I never told you of that. My mother had some money, 
and father keeps it for me.” 

“ How much ? ” 

“ Oh I do not know — ^forty or fifty pounds.” 

That’s a great lot.” 

“ Is it ? I have no use for it now ; but I may some day, 
if we get married. Father hides the pot about in different 
places, so that no one may discover where it is ; but I 
always know. He’s not afraid of telling me. But if he 
didn’t tell me, I should know. I could watch him.” 

“ Fifty pounds ! Why you might buy a boat with that.” 

“ I dare say I might, but father won’t let me have the 
money till I marry ; then I shall have it, and then you may 
do what you like with it.” 

“ Fifty pounds ! ” again repeated Jeremiah. “ Why, if I 
had that I could Uliy a share in the Cordelia along with 
Tom May. He was saying yesterday in the ‘ Anchor ’ he 
wanted a mate. We’d go after chalk to Kent — there’s a 
lot required for the new sea Wall, and we’d catch sprats 
when we couldn’t go after oysters. I’d make a pint of 
money in no time. That’s the worst of it ; if you want 
to reap money, you must sow money. There’s the trouble 
with me. I’ve nothing, and so I never can get anything. 
I see lots of chances before me, but I can’t take hold of 
them, because, like the man without arms, I can’t grip. 
It’s all money does it. You’d soon see ; if I had a little to 
start with, what a lot I’d make. I’ve brains. I can see 
through a milestone, but I can’t make a start without 
something to start on. Fifty pounds would just do it. Pot 
your money ? What an idea ! Invest it. Lend it to me, 
and I will turn it over and over, and every time it turns it 
will grow. Go and ask your father to lend me the money.” 

“ It is of no use. He is suspicious of all speculations.” 

“ Then take it.” 

What — my money ? ” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


233 


Yes, your money ? ” ^ 

But father would not let me.” 

“ It is your money, not his.” 

Jael shook her head. Father will not part with the 
money till I marry ; so he who wants the money must take 
me along with it.” 

“ How old are you, Jael ? ” 

‘‘I’m just on eighteen.” 

“ And I am twenty-one ; just of age, and come into my 
property.” 

“ What is your property, Jerry ? ” 

“ Nothing — nothing at all. There is the aggravation. 
I have brains. I was the best boy in the school ; always 
head of the class ; but I can do nothing, begin nothing, 
gain nothing, because I’ve nothing to begin with. If you 
were a mathematician, Jael, you’d know that you may try 
to multiply naught till you’re black in the face, and naught 
is the product. You must have a cipher of some value, 
and tack naughts to that before you can make tens, and 
hundreds, and thousands, and millions. But without a 
cipher to begin with, with naught but a naught, all the 
adding of naughts makes naught but naught. That’s my 
situation. I could do wonders if I had something to begin 
upon.” 

“ There’s nothing for it, then,” said Jael, with her face 
grave, “ but for you to go to father and ask him to give us 
to you.” 

“ Us ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Me, and the pot, and the sovereigns, and the gull.” 

“I’ll risk it,” said Jeremiah; “but I don’t want the 
gull no more than I do the pot.” 

“ Who takes me takes the gull, and he who takes the 
money must have the ginger pot also to hold it in.” 

“ What do you say, Jael ? Shall I risk it ? ” 

“ Yes/’ she said. “ Why not ? We are both as strong 


234 the story of JAEL, 

as ever we are likely to be, and able to keep house to- 
gether.’' 

Afar off stood Shamgar. He had caught sight of the 
two. 

“ Ah,” said he, there they are — that pair of chattering 
good-for-nothing, mischievous jays — Jael and Jerry — ^J. 
and J. Looking on, were they, whilst I was digging up the 
pot. I shouldn’t be surprised if Jael were to tell that 
fellow all about it. I must hide it elsewhere. I don’t 
trust him or any one knowing where the girl’s money is 
hid. It would be as bad as putting it in a bank, or 
speculating with it. I wonder what they’re a-talking 
about ? A pair of darned chattering, good-for-nothing, 
pecking, mischievous jays. Up to wickedness of some 
sort, I’ll be bound. Whatever did my wife, Clementina, 
mean by leaving of me with that girl to bring up. I wish 
she’d come back from the world of spirits, just for a mo- 
ment — I wish she would — and, by Gorr ! I’d pull her 
nose.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


235 


CHAPTER III. 

• ' A JAEL-ORESS. 

Jael went on the railway bridge, climbed to the rail and 
sat on it, swinging her feet, and looking round at her 
father’s cottage. Jerry had risked it — he had gone in to 
see old Tapp, and ask for the ginger pot, and Jael, and 
the gull, and the sovereigns. The tide was rushing away 
below, through the tarred posts of the bridge, swirling and 
sweeping along with it strands of sea tangle. 

“ Hah ! ” exclaimed Jael,- “ there goes a shepherd’s 
purse ? ” as she saw a black seaweed pouch drive by. ‘‘ If 
Jerry gets the money we shall want purses into which to 
put it.” 

In the broad estuary of the Colne was the little vessel 
that had recently passed through the swing bridge j its sail 
was spread, and it was speeding out with the rapidly 
ebbing tide. Down Mersea Fleet, the channel opposite, 
another boat was coming, also with wings spread, also 
straw laden ; both were on their way to town with their 
loads, to supply some of the many mews of the metropolis. 

“ See ! ” exclaimed Jael, “ there’s yonder boat coming 
this way, and the boat that has gone through the bridge is 
going from just the opposite direction, and tliey will both 
sail out together with the tide and wind into the deep blue 
sea, and take their course together — ^just like Jerry and 
me. Why ! ” she suddenly exclaimed, “ what is the mean- 
ing of that ? Here comes Jerry, jumping and running as 
> if father had touched him with the red-hot poker. Jerry I 
what is it? Stay! — where are you going? What has 

father said ? ” 


236 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


The young man, looking hot, angry, and agitated, came 
up. “ It is no use,” he swore. Confound it ! What an 
ass I was to go, and what a fool you were to advise me. I 
shall enlist ; it is of no use staying here. Good-bye, Jael 
— when I’m gone, you will think of me.” 

Not another word of farewell — he was off, over the 
bridge, running, and, having reached the further side, 
leaped the light rail that divided the line from the marsh, 
and went across it, in the direction of his own home. Jael 
had descended from the rail on which she had been 
sitting ; she stood with her hands behind her, holding it, 
looking after young Mustard, her feet planted together on 
one of the sleepers of the line. 

The color rose and dyed her brown cheek a rich apricot, 
and then went. What was the meaning of Jerry running 
away ? 

Then she heard her father calling her, but was too pre- 
occupied by her thoughts to attend and answer. She 
was roused by his hand roughly grasping her shoulder. 

‘‘ Come 1 come in, you girl ; come in at once,” and he 
dragged her by sheer force to his cottage. When there, 
he shut the door. 

“It has come to this,” said he ; “ you send lovers to me 
with the impertinence to ask for you — and such lovers too.” 

Jael folded her arms. 

“ Only one, father.” 

“ And isn’t that one enough ? A boy of twenty, or one- 
and twenty, without a trade, a good-for-naught ! And pray 
how long has this been going on ? ” 

“What, father?” 

“ What ! What ? This love-making, without axing of my 
leave, and just picking up the worst fish in the whole net.” 

“Jerry and I have been friends many mpnths. I love 
him, and am going to marry him, and then we’re going 
shares with Tom May in the Cordelia'' 

“ Oh, indeed ! All is settled, is it? ” 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


237 


“ Yes, father. ' 

It takes three to settle such a matter as that. Do you 
suppose I’m going to give you to that whipper-snapper ? — 
a lad who never did enough honest work to earn his bread, 
a lad without a father — ” 

“ Well, and I am without a mother.” 

That’s a different matter altogether. He’s a good-for- 
nothing chap, and I won’t have it.” 

‘‘ Every one is against him,” said Jael ; “ every one has ' 
something hard, and unkind, and unjust to say of him ; 
but you know he was head boy in the school.” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, and that spoiled him for hard work. Look at 
his hands, they are soft as a girl’s. I tell you he don’t 
like work. He likes to be in the ‘ Anchor,’ smoking and 
drinking, and — ” with concentrated wrath — “ it’s the likes 
of he as can go all round the globe and see niggers, and 
rub them and see if it be burnt cork or not, and I am 
forced to stay at home. Talk of slaves, do you 1 — get 
along.” 

I thought, father,” said Jael, “ that if I married 
Jeremiah he’d be useful to you. He might attend to the 
bridge, and pilot the trains over, and allow you sometimes 
to get away.” 

“Indeed! bring him into my little cabin, would you? 
Let him take some of my work ! I’d see him hanged first, 
for I never could trust that chap. He’d let engine and 
train run into the Fleet. If that happened, on whom would 
the blame lie but on me ? I won’t hear of it. That’s flat, 
flat as turbot.” 

“ But, father, I love him, and I care for no one else, and 
I want him. Besides, we have arranged about the Cordelia, 
If he is not to have me, I think I should let him have some 
of the money out of the pot, to start him in life, to make 
up to him for the disappointment.” 

“ Do you ? ” roared old Tapp. “ Lord 1 what did Clemen- 
tina mean with leaving me saddled with such an incum- 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


238 

brance. Hold your tongue, you make me mad. I shall 
strike you if you say more. Jeremiah ! — all Brightlingsea 
knows he is an idle fellow, with no good in him, never 
sticks regularly to one trade. He’s drove an engine ; he’s 

been at sea what do you mean, trying to interrupt me. 

I know what I’ll do — I’ll go to Fingrinhoe after Mrs. Bagg. 
She shall be a mother to you ; she shall comb your hair ; 
she shall put you in traces and set blinkers over your eyes, 
that you look straight afore you at the road where your 
best interests lie, and don’t be peering all about you at the 
boys. I’ll i)ull on my best coat — let’s see, there won’t be 
a train till 5.35 — and I’ll go to Fingrinhoe and propose to 
Mrs. Baggj and come and be a mother to you.” 

“ Father, you do not mean it ! ” Jael’s veins swelled. 

“ Ay, I do ; I’ll go at once. Get your room ready, she 
shall share it with you, and see how she likes the situation, 
and the whipping and the driving of such a colt as you. 
I’ll have you broken in, I will.” 

“ Father, if you do that I shall run away.” 

“ Will you } Where will you run to ? See here, Jael. 
Did you ever know boys play at dobb-nuts ; two does it j 
each has a chestnut with a string through it, and one strikes 
at the other nut, and if he splits it he conquers. I take it 
your head and mine are set against each other, and we’ll 
see which cracks first, which proves hardest. Dobb-nuts 
it is ! I pity your skull, I do, for my head is hard, uncom- 
mon hard.” 

Mr. Shamgar Tapp put on his best coat-, and went down 
to the water’s edge, where he got into a boat ; and at once 
took off his coat again and laid it in the bows. Them he 
began to row. 

“ Drat the girl ! ” he said. “ What do I know of the 
management of girls, that Providence should have given 
me one, and left me to manage her? Providence might 
just as well have dropped an elephant down my chimney, 
and told me to rear that, and given me no instructions 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


239 


what victuals to give it, or what diseases it was troubled 
with, and when and how it might become dangerous. But 
there — I won’t think of that Jael any more. I’ll change 
the subject. When I think of her taking up with that 
loafer, Jeremiah Mustard, it makes my blood boil. Talking 
of boiling too,” he pulled long strokes, “ talking of boiling, 
don’t I know by experience that a black, kettle takes half 
the time to bring to the boil as does a polished tin one? 
Don’t it, so to speak, suck in the heat ? Very well. What 
is the human reason and experience given to a man for if 
he ain’t to apply his experience and exercise his reason. 
Don’t tell me that African niggers are by nature black. 
Why, bless me ! if a nigger were by nature black, and was 
to sit down on the burning desert he’d begin to boil at 
once, and the steam come out of his nose. He’d take in 
the heat and suffer from it twice as fast as if he were white. 
It’s with niggers as with kettles. I don’t believe, I won’t 
believe, that there is one law of nature for kettles, and 
another for human beings — get along.” 

Presently his boat touched the land, and he drew it up 
the slope from the shore to Fingrinhoe, where was the 
cottage now occupied by the widow Bagg. Mr. Tapp 
came in. 

“ Do, Mrs. Bagg, do ? ” He took a seat. “ How do you 
feel yourself? ” 

Mrs. Bagg was a fine woman of about forty-five, fresh for 
her age, with an aquiline nose, fine dark eyes, her hair, 
parted on one side, was drawn over to the other ; a tidy 
woman, who kept her cottage scrupulously clean, and her 
person scrupulously neat. Folks said she had a temper, 
but tidy women and good housewives generally have 
tempers, there is energy, go, in them ; they have no 
patience with slovenly people, and work half done. 

“ Mrs. Bagg,” said Tapp, “ I’ve come to call you to task. 
Why didn’t you smother it ? ” 

Smother what ! ” 


240 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


‘‘ The baby — my Jael. It is nigh on eighteen years ago 
you were in my house, and was almost a mother to thnt 
creature. You never considered my wishes, you never had 
a spark of human feeling and neighborly consideration 
for me. You might as well have gone and sown tares in 
my field, or thrown a firebrand in at my window, or let 
loose a hyaena in my kitchen. It was your duty to have 
smothered it.” 

“ But, Master Tapp, I did not think — ” 

“ No. In course you did not think. Women never do 
think. If you’d have thought you’d have known how 
inconvenient it would have been to me with a she-baby 
yowling for its meat, and I called away to open the bridge, 
or to leavdi it alone, after it could toddle, with the lamp on 
the table burning, and the fire in the grate blazing, and me 
off closing the bridge over the Fleet. No, you never 
thought, not you.” 

“ But, Master Tapp, surely — ” 

“You never asked me my opinion. You treated me as if 
I were a cipher in the house, as if that baby was everything, 
and I must have ho will q/’ my own, no wishes concerning 
it, no chance for myself. I did not think you was that 
unfeeling and ungenerous — but so you acted, and it has left 
me as tangled as twine.” 

“ I couldn’t do it, you know. Master Tapp.” 

“ In course you couldn’t,” he said sarcastically ; •* just you 
come over and see the consequence. There’s that girl 
grown up, and tearing over the marshes after the young 
men. What am I to do ? What can I do ? She is that 
daring and audacious, that she defies me. You should 
have smothered her when she was born. You’d have done 
it if you’d had any Christian and womanly feelings in your 
bosom, Mrs. Bagg.” 

That lady was so disconcerted at the sudden and unex- 
pected attack that she was incapable of defending herself. 


THE STORY OF yAEL. 


She looked about her, and for lack of something else to say, 
asked, “ Will you have, a cup of tea. Master Tapp ? ” 

“ I don’t mind if I do,” he replied. “ It’ll soothe the 
inflammation I feel within me. Ah ! Mistress Bagg, did 
you ever reckon on changing your name ? ” 

“ Well, master,” answered the widow, “ I can’t say I have 
never thought on it, because the men press it so on me. 
The offers I’ve had since my dear man died would dress a 
potato field ; but I put them from me — I waited for better 
offers.” 

“ Now, see this,” saidShamgar, “ I change my shirt once 
a week, so there’s washing to do. And I wear a hole in 
the foot of my worsted socks once a week, so there’s darn- 
ing to do. And Hike my victuals hot and reg’lar, so there’s 
cooking to do — a chop or a steak on Sundays, and a bit of 
pudding and gravy on Tuesday. Then with these sewing- 
machines come in, all one’s coats and trousers and waist- 
coats go to pieces at the seams.” 

I know they do,” said Mrs. Bagg. 

“ How do you know ? ” asked Shamgar. “ Have you 
been overhauling my chest of drawers ? ” 

“ I was speaking promiscuous,” explained the widow, 
“ of work done by sewing machines. You see they don’t 
knot the ends of the thread.” 

“ I don’t know nor care how it comes about, but I know 
my garments are ever giving way at the seams and letting 
in air — and it’s a windy place is Gull-Fleet Bridge. So 
there’s tailoring to be done. And then, and above all, 
there’s that Jael, that girl, to be kept under, and held in 
tight, and taught her duties, and made to stay at home, 
and held from the boys, and so,” said Mr. Tapp, “ there’s 
also Jaeloring to be done.” 

There must be,” agreed Mrs. Bagg. 

Now, if she goes off. I’ll want someone to manage for 
me, and if she don’t go off, still I want someone. So if 
you please, you can come and try it, and I’ll see what you’re 

16 


242 


TH£ STORY OF yAEL. 


like, and there’s no saying — more wonderful tilings have 
happened — but you may come in the end to changing your 
name. That depends, you see, mistress, on how you get on 
with the washing, and the mending, and the cooking, and 
the tailoring, and the Jaeloring.” 

“ I don’t mind, I’m no ways particular,” said Mrs. Bagg. 
“ I’ll come and try it.” 

“ Very well,” said Mr. Tapp. “ Then I’ll wait here whilst 
you put your few things together, and I’ll row you back. 
That girls wants looking after continually and regularly 
as Gull-Fleet Bridge.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


243 


CHAPTER IV. 

ON THE BRIDGE. 

That night Jael was expected by her father to share her 
room and bed with the woman who was to be her second 
mother. Jael’s heart was full, her bosom heaved, at one 
moment the tears rushed into her eyes, and then, in pride 
and anger, she restrained them. Her dark brows met 
loweringly above her eyes, and she looked at Mrs. Bagg 
with a scowl. At one moment her lip quivered, and then 
she bit it, and in biting it gave a hard look to her mouth 
with hard lines on either side. 

She would hardly speak to Mrs. Bagg. At supper she 
laid the table in her rough, untidy way, and was repri- 
manded by the widow. 

“ Do look here ! The ends of the cloth are not even,” 
said Mrs. Bagg. “ It looks as if it were chucked on any- 
how.” 

It is chucked on anyhow,” answered Jael, surlily. “ If 
you can’t eat off the cloth, you can leave alone eating till 
you get h(;yne.” 

“ Jael,” said her father, “ I will not allow you to speak in 
that impertinent fashion to Mrs. Bagg, as has been, and is 
to be a mother to you. Get down your catechism, and see 
what that says about respect due to them as is set over 
you.” 

Jael thereupon refused to speak at all. 

“ Show the lady up to your room,” said her father, after 
supper. “ We keep early hours here, for with me times is 
irreg’lar — according to tide. My rest is broken with 
vessels as wants to come up and go down through the 
bridge.” 


244 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


For this reason Mr. Shamgar Tapp occupied a little room 
on the ground floor. His duties took him out at night 
occasionally, and he was able, by having his room below, 
to leave the house and return to it without disturbing his 
daughter. 

When Mrs. Bagg came into the room devoted to Jael, 
she looked around her. Jael’s clothes were scattered about 
in untidy fashion. She shook her head. 

“ Sack o’ dew ! ”* exclaimed Mrs. Bagg. “ We shall 
have to make a power of changes here. There’s a place 
for everything, and let everything be in its proper place.” 

“ Riglit,” said Jael; “act on it, and take yourself back 
to Fingrinhoe.” 

Mrs. Bagg pretended not to hear her, and proceeded to 
divest herself of her garments. Such an eminently tidy 
woman was she that she folded up her clothes and laid 
them on the chair as if she laid them there for their long 
last rest ; her shoes she set with toes in line under the 
chair, and having suspended her gown to a crook on the 
door, she proceeded to stroke it down, to get the plaits in 
lines, with as much care and pains as if she were curry- 
combing a horse. 

“And now,” said Mrs. Bagg, “where’s the cap-stand ? ” 

“ I don’t wear caps,” answered Jael. 

“ If there was a swing-glass here,” mused the widow, 
“ I’d manage to put the cap on that, but there bSn’t, mussy 
on me if I know what to do. I can’t have that crumpled. 
Deary life ! I know what shall be done. Run, Jael, down 
stairs, and fetch a broom up here, and I’ll plant the broom 
up between the backs of two chairs set ag’in one another, 
and the cap a-top. It’ll do. Necessity is the mother of 
invention.” 

“ Sack o’ dew ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Bagg, when she had pro- 


* An Essex exclamation, corrupted from the Sacre Dieu of the 
Huguenot settlers at the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


245 


vided herself with a besom and placed it in the required 
position, and adjusted her cap on the top, and brought 
down the ribbons on each side evenly, and had walked 
round it admiringly, holding the candle. Sack o’ dew ! ” 
she said, “ it’s almost human, it’s so lovely.” ^ 

That was more than cOuld be said for the lady herself at 
that moment, attired in a very short crimson skirt — a cut 
down gown that served as petticoat, and had been cut and 
cut till it reached but little below her knees. She wore 
black stockings, and had very stout calves. There was a 
bald patch on the top of her head, on account of which she 
divided her hair on the left side and rolled it over the bald 
place, and made a curl on the right side, like a breaking 
seventh wave. She had removed her gown and wore her 
stays. 

That I should have lived to see this ! ” said Mrs. Bagg. 

What creatures men — I mean human beings — be. How 
they rises to emergencies, and when put to their mettles 
how their talents appear. That besom does beautifully, 
doesn’t it Jael ” 

Jael remained in a corner ; she crouched, with her elbows 
on her knees, looking sullenly at the floor in front of her. 
No appeal of Mrs. Bagg could induce her to look up and 
admire the cap on the extemporized stand. The widow, 
however, was content to talk without eliciting answers ; 
and when she had completely undressed herself she got into 
bed, without taking the least heed of Jael, and blew out 
the candle. 

In a very few minutes she was asleep. 

The cool manner in which the woman appropriated Jael’s 
room and bed, her indifference to Jael’s comfort and feel- 
ings, heightened the girl’s dislike and stirred up bitter and 
angry passions in her heart, 

Mrs. Bagg was snoring, snoring already — snoring vocifer- 
ously, triumphantly, with defiant snorts, like those of the 
warhorse ready for the battle. 


246 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


Jael’s nerves were not finely strung, but, such as they 
were, and at that time they were in a condition of irrita- 
tion, the trumpetings from Mrs. Bagg’s nose jarred them 
and tortured them to exasperation. If Mrs. Bagg h.ad 
snored evenly and in moderate tones, it might have been 
supportable, but she had a' Baggonian snore of her own. 
She inhaled the air through her nose, which vibrated at 
each inhalation as if filled with concertina metallic tongues, 
and then blew it forth between her lips in a blunted whistle. 
Jael could not, had she wished it, sleep with a woman so 
noisy at night, who shook the bed as though she was 
worked by a screw propeller. 

Just as she was resolved to put a towel over the lady’s 
mouth, so as to force her to do all breathing through her 
nostrils, Jael heard a scratching sound at the window, and 
looking towards it, saw a stick with some holly leaves at 
the end being rubbed against the glass. 

She stole across the room to the window, and cautiously 
opened the casement. The night was so full of twilight 
that she could see and distinguish Jerry standing below. 

“ I say, Jael,” he whispered, “ come down, I want to 
tell you something.” 

What is it ? ” she asked also in a loud whisper. 

“ Come down, it’s a long story, and a bad one. You 
only can help me. I’m all but undone.” 

“ What is it, Jerry ? ” 

“ Come down, I say, I can’t halloo my secrets for the 
seamews to know them.” 

She slipped off her shoes, and descended the stairs so 
lightly, that even had not Mrs. Bagg’s trumpet drowned all 
inferior sounds, she would not have been heard. The door 
was never locked ; she opened it and went out. “ Come 
on to the bridge, Jerry,” she said j “ I won’t go far from 
the house, nor stay out many minutes, so you must be 
quick in telling me what you want.” She was in a defiant 
mood, indifferent to what her father might say if he found 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


247 


her going out at night, and yet she had sufficient self-regard 
to curtail the interview, and not to leave the line of rails 
near tlie cottage. 

When she reached the bridge she leaned against it, as' 
customary, with her hands behind her, and her feet to- 
gether on one of the sleepers. The night was still, the 
gulls were awake and chattering, calling to one another, 
and chuckling over their catches in the empty channel. 
What was mud by daylight was silver now, reflecting the 
clear illumined sky. The gulls’ white wings caught the 
light from above, and as they fluttered down they seemed 
like great falling snowflakes. To the north-east a clump of 
fine trees about an old manor-house stood out against the 
luminous sky as blots of ink, and the noble tower of 
Brightlingsea church rose against it distinctly visible in the 
night — more distinct than it was often by day, when the 
haze obscured it. “What do you think, Jerry?” she 
said, her bosom heaving, “ what do you think ? Father 
has brought home Mistress. Bagg to be a mother to me, 
.and she has turned me out of my bed.” 

“ You’re in trouble then,” said Mustard. “ By George ! 
so am I. What do you suppose I have done ? I have made 
an ass of myself — I have enlisted. I have taken the 
Queen’s money, and whatever is to be the end of it, I do 
not know.” 

“Unlisted, Jerry!” 

“ Yes, I have ; and I was a fool. I know very well that 
I shall be sent out to India or to Africa, and have to fight, 
and be killed, or die of cholera, or rattlesnakes, or tic- 
doloreux.” 

Oh, Jerry ! ” 

“ Do you believe in presentiment ? I do. But I won’t 
go out. I’ll desert, and if I’m caught, I shall be shot, and 
that will be the end of me.” 

“ But — why did you enlist ? ” 


248 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


Jael took her hands from behind her and folded them 
over her beating heart, then unlaced them, and put one 
hand on the bridge rail and drew it forward and backward ; 
she had forgotten her own distress for the moment at these 
unexpected tidings. 

“ Why did I enlist ! ” repeated Jeremiah. “ There’s a 
cold-blooded question for a girl to ask I Why did I enlist ? ” 
in a tender tone. “ Because your father insulted me that 
grossly that I couldn't bear it, but felt I must drown myself 
or become a soldier.” 

How many years will you have, Jerry ? ” Her voice 
shook, she was pained to think she. would lose him, and 
yet — a little proud to think of him as a gallant soldier in 
scarlet. 

‘^Not a year, not half a year, not two months. Are you 
deaf? Did you not hear me ? I said I should desert.” 

But you cannot desert, Jerry.” 

I can and I will, unless I am bought out. You must 
do that. It costs only ten pounds under three months, and 
fifteen over that. Ten pounds — what is ten pounds when 
my life and happiness is concerned? You would not have 
me whiten the desert with my bones, and saturate the soil 
of the Indies with my gore, would you? ” 

“ Have you got ten pounds, Jerry?” 

“ No I haven’t, but you have.” 

“ I_Jerry ! ” 

“Yes — you have ; you’ve a pot full of sovereigns. You 
are flush with gold ; what’s ten pounds to you ? You told 
me yourself you had fifty.” 

“ But, Jerry, my father has*that, it is not mine yet. If 
it were mine I would gladly let you have the money — 
but — ” 

“ Oh, yes, I understand ifs and buts. 

“ ‘ If all the loaves were made of But 
And all the seas of If^ 

There ’d be no paupers in the land 
For all would have enough.’ 


THE STORY. OF JAEL. 


249 


“You must pronounce the last word or the rhyme 
don’t come right,” explained Jerry. 

“ But, Jerry, my father would never consent — ” 

“ Do you take me for a jackass ? I, that was first boy in 
the school, and gained a Bible and Prayer-book out of Lord 
Thistlethwaite’s charily by learning a score of the Psalms 
of David by heart ? I never thought of asking your father. 
The money is yours, not his.” 

“ But he has the charge of it.” 

“ Pll tell you what it is,” said Jeremiah Mustard, senten- 
tiously ; “ you told me yourself he was going to give you a 
second mother. He’ll have heaps on heaps of children by 
her, and you’ll be put out in the cold and your nose be 
turned out of joint ; and they’ll make use of you as a nurse 
to the squallers ; and — what was I saying? Why — that 
woman will twist your father round her finger, and wheedle 
out of him all your money, and^gild herself with it from top 
to toe — or — if she don’t herself, she will her brats of children. 
I know what stepmothers are. I’ve read about them in 
print, and what’s in print must be true. Why, she has driven 
you out of your bed already, she’ll turn you out of the house 
next, because it is too small for you and her, and her swarm 

of babies . As for your father, he’ll love you no more, 

he’ll be so wrapped up in the new babies, and he’ll be led 
about by that woman, tied to her apron strings. It always 
is so. I believe there’s something about it somewhere in 
Scripture, only I cannot name the chapter and verse, I’m so 
excited and angry.” 

“ But — ^Jerry.” 

“ Let me say my say,” he went on ; “ I see clear as day- 
light that you have no one to stand by you but myself, and 
what you must do is to throw in your lot with mine. I’ve 
hit it, Jael ! We’ll go to America together. You dig up 
that pot of gold, and we will start at once for London, and 
see the agent for Canada, and get a free passage, as for man 


250 


'llJE STORY OF JAEL. 


and wife. They’ll perfectly scream for joy out there to 
have such a settler as me, able-bodied, young, and clever, 
having been first boy in the school, and able to say a lot of 
Psalms by heart, among others the one hundred and nine- 
teenth. We’ll get a free passage, and then, with your fifty 
pounds, we’ll buy a farm. Why, Jael, they sell the land 
there for half-a-crown an acre, and that will make four 
hundred acres. Farmer Marriage hasn’t got one so big as 
that, and he’s churchwarden and guardian, and he rents his 
from the squire ; we shall own ours. By George ! we shall 
be grand folks ! That will be happiness. No soldiering 
for me, and no mother-in-lawing — no, I mean step-mother- 
ing for you.” 

Jael put up her hand to her brow, then over her lips 
which were trembling, but the hand trembled also; she 
stayed it by resting her elbow in the hollow of the other 
hand crossed before her. A tear came out of her eye and 
hung on her long dark lash, but Jeremiah could not see it, 
though the light from the north was on her face. He could 
not see the tear, but he saw how handsome she was, and 
her face was pale and cold in that mysterious light from the 
hidden sun, shining far away within the arctic circle. “ That 
will be happiness,” he continued ; “ you and I will have a 
nice little house together, with a green door and windows, 
and white curtains, and an umbrella stand in the hall,” 

He took her hand from her mouth, and held it between 
his. His hand was hot, she felt his pulses beating, she 
tried to withdraw her fingers, but he would -not allow her. 

“No, no, Jael,” he said, “hand in hand we shall go 
through life together. You have no one else to look after 
you and care for you and love you. Now that your father 
has taken up with that old tabby, and is patting of her, and 
scratching her under the chin, and she a purring, he has no 
thoughts for you, not a bit of love left in his heart fit to set 
on a threepenny piece, not as much as makes a dose of 
quinine for the ague.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


251 


If I thought my father did not love me ” began 

Jael, and then broke down. She^had not been an accommo- 
dating daughter, had followed her own will, but she loved 
her rough father, and she believed that in his rude, un- 
shapen heart, he loved her. 

“ He don’t love you. I ask any one who hears me,” said 
Jeremiah, “ is it possible that he can love you when he goes 
over to Fingrinhoe and fetches you a mother from there, 
and that woman, Mrs. Bagg } It is impossible. Every 
scrap of love is gone out of him — if he ever had any.” 

Then for a few minutes they stood silent, hand in hand, 
Jael looking dreamily across the silver of the empty 
channel — dull silver, with one thread in it of liquid, quiver- 
ing mercury. The tide was rising and flowing in, up the 
channel, gurgling round the beams that supported the 
bridge. 

“The tide has begun to flow,” said Jeremiah. “The 
day after to-morrow at four o’clock in the morning the Cor- 
delia is going to sail for London. She’s got a load of peas 
and beans, and is coming back with drain tiles. I’ll tell 
Tom May to expect you, and about half-past three you 
come aboard and slip into the fo’castle crib, and no one 
will say a word, and lie hid there till we’re off. When we 
get to town we’ll go and see the agent for the Dominion of 
Canada, somewhere in Victoria Street, I think he is, and 
we’ll get our passages out. You bring your fifty pounds 
along with you ” 

“ But, Jerry, how about your enlisting ?” 

“ I’ll chance that. I told you I should desert, and if 
there be a fuss and I be caught, why we must shell out ten 
pound to clear me. But we’ll try" to get off without that. 
It would be a shame and a sin to throw away ten pound, 
that is eighty acres, when we can keep them. So, I say, 
we will chance it. Then we shall go to Liverpool together 
and cross the great Atlantic, and, as the story books say. 


252 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


be happy ever after on our estate of four hundred acres, 
and umbrella stand in the hall.” 

“ No, Jerry, I cannot take the money.” 

“You must, Jael. We shall want it. We cannot do 
without it. You will see what a figure I shall cut, what a 
fortune I shall make when I’ve something to start from. 
That has always stood against me — having nothing. You 
can’t begin from nothing, any more than you can stand upon 
nothing. They call money in hand capital, but I don’t, I 
call it pedestal. It is not that which crowns but that which 
supports. What would this bridge be, if it were not for 
these sustaining posts ? Well, your fifty pounds will be 
the supporting beams on which the line of our life will be 
carried.” 

“T cannot take it, Jerry, without my father’s consent.” 

“ You will leave your mother’s money to this second 
woman to use, I suppose. Jael ! I thought you’d more 
feeling and respect for the memory of her that’s gone than 
to think of such a thing. What will be your poor dear 
mother’s feelings in heaven when she sees Mrs. Bagg buy a 
crinolcttc, and a chignon for herself, and a perambulator 
for the baby — bought out of her savings, out of her money 
which she intended for you, which she always desired you 
to have ? ” 

Jeremiah felt Jael’s hand twitch in his own. 

“ Oil, Jael ! ” he said, “ if you love me consider my feel- 
ings, and do what I ask.” He put his arms round her. 

Then they heard — was it a sea-bird screaming ? No, it 
was Mrs. Bagg at the window calling, “ Jael ! Jael ! Oh, 
you wicked, oh you audacious girl ! That ever ! What 
will your poor dear father say ? Come in this instant.” 

The girl withdrew from Jeremiah’s embrace, her brows 
contracted, all the softness and tremulousness that had 
come over her went away ; she was hard and firm now. 

“ Jeremiah,” she said, “ I must go in. Perhaps she has 
not seen you. But it does not matter. Good-bye, Jerry ! ” 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


253 


“ Good-bye, dear Jael, till to-morrow twenty-four hours 
at four in the morning, when we go off together with the 
tide — and don’t forget the preserved ginger, I’m partial to 
that.” 


254 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


CHAPTER V. 

UNDER THE BRIDGE. 

Next morning, when Jael entered the kitchen, she found 
that Mrs. Bagg had prepared breakfast and was at table 
with her father. Jael had spread a mattress in the corner 
of her room and cast herself on it, holding her hands to her 
ears to shut out the scolding of the widow, and had fallen 
asleep without taking off her clothes. She had slept 
heavily and long, and did not awake till Mrs. Bagg had 
risen and been down for an hour and a half. As she 
entered the kitchen she heard her say to her father, “ Now 
mind. Master Tapp, to whatever I say, mind you say 
‘ Amen.’ ” 

Jael was a little ashamed of herself for having overslept 
herself and neglected her duties so that Mrs. Bagg had been 
enabled to step into her place without a struggle or protest. 
Mrs. Bagg had lighted the fire, boiled the kettle, spread the 
table, put the bread and butter on the table, and done the 
rasher of bacon. Not only so, but Mrs. Bagg had done all 
better than she — ^Jael — had been accustomed to do things. 
The table had a cloth on it — Jael had never considered it 
worth while putting one on for breakfast — and the four 
corners of tlie cloth hung evenly about the table. 

There,” said Mrs. Bagg, “ take your place, child \ we 
have kept a rasher for you.” 

Jael’s anger swelled up in her heart again. This woman 
was exercising authority over her, as mistress of the house, 
and mother by right divine. 

She looked at her father, but he bowed his head over his 
plate and did not raise his eyes to meet hers. 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


255 


“ I don’t want anything,” said Jael, roughly ; “ if I am 
hungry presently, I shall take what I want.” 

“ Sit down, anyhow, in your place,” said her father, still 
without looking at her. 

She obeyed. Her face was like a landscape across which 
shadows and flashes of light swept alternately, when a gale 
is blowing aloft and driving clouds athwart the sun. At 
one moment it lowered, dark with sullen wrath, and then 
there came a gleam of fire into her eyes and cheeks, as her 
anger mounted and threatened an outbreak. 

“ Is it only barnacles as grows on to the bridge ? ” asked 
Mrs. Bagg, looking from Mr. Tapp to his daughter. 

‘‘And tangles,” responded Shamgar. 

“ Tangles it is,” said Mrs. Bagg, “ and pretty tangles they 
be. The sea-tangles have bubbles in ’em filled with a jelly, 
and the tangles I’ve noticed on the bridge hasn’t got no 
more than jelly in the bubble it calls its head. Tangles in- 
deed ! ” She poured herself out another cup of tea. “ Pretty 
tangles they be, with a pair of legs and two arms, and a 
tongue, a reg’lar intangling tangle it is.” 

Shamgar looked up at the woman, then at his daughter. 

“ I’ve heard,” said Mrs. Bagg, “ of living tangles, a sort 
of fish with two great eyes and a lot of long arms, and its 
head and stomach all in one. And I’ve heard,” she con- 
tinued, looking hard at Jael, “ that when that same creature 
gets its arms about a human being, then it’s a bad look out 
for that same. And I know that there be human octopuses 
too, that likes to throw their arms round girls’ necks, and 
then I pity the girl, that’s all. And from what I saw and 
judged last night, I suppose that there has been a human 
octopus and a human tangle about this house, and has been 
a longing and a trying to devour a certain person not a 
hundred miles off, nay — with only a table and a rasher of 
bacon between us.” 

Jael stood up, and flushed a dark red. She knew to what 
the widow alluded. 


256 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


“ I’m not surprised,” said Mrs. Bagg, “ that this poor dear 
man here’’ — she waved her spoon towards Mr. Tapp — ‘‘ has 
been vexed and worried out of his life, by having to deal 
with idiots as can’t keep out of the way of octopuses. Any 
one with a grain of sense would steer clear of them brutes, 
but some run into their arms and offer themselves to be 
swallowed. Jonah didn’t go and chuck himself into the 
whale’s belly, he was chucked in by heathens and papists, 
as were in the boat with him., I’m not surprised that 
Master Tapp has asked me to come and circumvent and 
supervise his house, when there are such goings on, and 
such creatures in it to be brought into order and obedience. 
Am I wrong, Master Tapp ? ” ‘ 

“ No, Mistress Bagg, not at all.” 

“ Now don’t you go and turn your back on me whilst I’m 
talking,” pursued the widow, “ especially when your hair is 
hanging down behind, all in a rummage, not properly pinned 
up, and when there’s an end of your staylace poking out 
through the joints of your gown where it isn’t fastened, nor 
can be because of the bursting of an eye, or the coming 
away of a hook. I’m not surprised at your father calling 
me over the coals for not a-smothering you when you were 
born.” 

Jael turned sharply round, and looked at Mr. Tapp, 
whose eyes fell. 

Mrs. Bagg felt she had gained an advantage, so she pur- 
sued the subject. ‘‘ The poor dear man came up to me at 
Fingrinhoe, wringing of his hands, and saying, “ Oh, why, 
my dear, dear Jemima ” — which is my Christian name ” 

“ I did not call you Jemima,” corrected Shamgar. 

“ Was it Bagg, you said ? ’* asked the widow. “ Bagg it 
shall be ; it was the expression of your face as you said it, 
and the tenderness in your voice, and the general affection 
that pervaded you made me think it was Jemima you said, 
but it was Bagg, maybe, so softened and honeyed, and 
spiced, that it sounded like Jemima.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 257 

‘‘ Did my father wish I had been smothered ? ” asked 
Jael. 

He did. He was that cross with me for not having 
put the pillow over your mouth and made an end of you 
when you were born, that I’d the greatest difficulty to 
pacify him ; and to make amends for not having done so, 
I said I’d come here and see what I could do with you 
now. Of course now, Jael, smothering is out of the ques- 
tion, but — ” 

“ Father,” said Jael, “ is this true ? ” 

“ Ay ! ” he said loudly and angrily, to cover his confusion. 
“ Of course it is. Have not you been a plague and a vexa- 
tion to me ever since you were born ? Ain’t you now a 
harassing of me, as if you were going over me with a garden 
rake? I do — I do say, that Mrs. Bagg was very much to 
blame that she didn’t consider my feelings and smother 
you right off on end when you were born.” 

“ I suppose you’d just as soon I were smothered now,” 
said Jael in a tone of mingled bitterness and distress. 

“ If the law would allow of it, I would,” answered Tapp 
in a loud tone to disguise his real uneasiness, and under 
the impression that he must back up Mrs. Bagg, and carry 
out the arrangement made with her. “ It would be an 
end of worry to me, and I could mind the bridge with 
nothing else in my thoughts to vex me.” 

“ I am sorry for it — that I am such a trouble to you. I 
will vex you no more,” said Jael, hardly controlling herself, 
and she went out of the door. 

Mr. Tapp thought he had gone too far, spoken too 
strongly, and he half rose from his seat. 

“ You let her alone,” said Mrs. Bagg. “ Hard words 
break no bones. You’ve given her a pill that will set 
her to rights. I understand female nature. Haven’t I 
got it myself ? If a person has it and has had it these 
forty — I mean thirty-five years, experiencing of it and 
exDerimentalizing on it day and night, winter and sum- 


258 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


mer, one must be a fool not to understand it. It will 
do her good. Trust me. I know what does for such con- 
stitutions as hers. Why, when I was a girl, myself, ’tother 
day, I was as skittish as she — not that I ever runned 
into the arms of octopuses. I let the octopuses run after 
me, and I kicked and struggled before I let them throw 
their arms about me.” 

How you must have changed since then,” said Sliamgar 
grimly. He was uneasy in his mind. “ Now you’ve come 
across the mouth of the Colne, left your own cottage for 
the chance of getting me. It is a chance. Mind you, 
unless you manage that girl properly. I’ll have nothing to 
say to you more. Bagg you was, and Bagg you shall be, 
and Bagg shall stand on your tombstone. Yes,” he said 
testily, ‘‘ the Bagg shall find her mate, I’ll give her the 
sack.” 

Jael did not appear throughout the day. Mr. Tapp was 
not greatly concerned at this, Mrs. Bagg not at all. 

“ It is wonderful how it tames wild creatures to be with- 
out their victuals,” said the father. 

Evening arrived, and still she had not returned. . 

In fact, Jael was rambling about the country, on the 
marsh, in the copse-woods. She kept out of sight of her 
father’s house ; there was a fire in her veins which made 
her restless, but in the afternoon she fell asleep in a nut- 
wood. 

When she awoke the evening had closed in. She was 
hungry, but she would not go home. The sun had set, 
and there was summer-lightning flashing in the sky, fitful, 
as the pulses in her own heart. She could not remain in 
the nut-wood. There is an Essex saying that if you go 
nutting on a certain day, and the sun sets ere you leave, 
you will meet the Evil One, also nutting, but the nut he 
will want is your soul. He will put his hand to you, just 
as you put yours to a hazel tree, and grope, and all at once 
lay hold of your heart, and give it a twist, exactly as you 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


259 


twist the nut off the bough, and in a moment it will be in 
his hand. Then he will put your heart to his teeth, and 
crack — in a moment he will have gulped your soul down, 
just as you eat the kernel of your nut. 

Jael remembered this superstition, though she could not 
recall in what night it was that the Evil One went nutting, 
or whether he did not go every night, always seeking for 
those nuts. The idea of meeting him frightened her, and 
she emerged from the wood, and in the dusk stole nearer 
home. She had vainly sought nuts in the copse, nuts that 
is with formed kernels. All were empty, the time for the 
swelled and pleasant fruit was not come. She broke the 
shells and found they contained nothing edible, nothing 
but a sort of white cottony fibre. 

The horizon was flushing, and it was hard to say where 
the lightning really was, for the original flashes repeated 
themselves over the whole sky with such vividness that the 
reflections seemed to be themselves electric discharges. No 
thunder could be heard. The storm that raged elsewhere 
was raging at a distance, but a haze of black vapor began 
to spread over the southern ark of sky, and thence, if the 
storm came, it would come to the Colne estuary. 

Jael sat on a bank watching the sky for long ; she could 
see the light in her father’s cottage kindled, and the red 
signal lamps on the line. To the south the darkness was 
spreading, and the pulsation of light in it became more 
frequent, and once or twice she thought that she could hear 
a distant rumble. 

The night would not be as clear as the last, even now a 
bank of vapor was forming over the north, like a repeated 
shadow there, as the lightning reflected itself there In 
flashes. 

Presently Jael felt a drop on her hand, a warm large 
drop like a tear fallen out of heaven — a tear of pity for 
her, hungry, forlorn, exposed to peril, homeless. 

Then she went cautiously down to the railway bridge, 


26 o 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


looking about her, so as not to allow herself to be ob- 
served, and took refuge on the turf under the bridge where 
it made its first stride from the mainland. There she 
could stand, and if the rain came down would find shelter, 
so long as it was not driven by wind ; and of wind, as yet, 
there was little, and what there was came in sighs at in- 
tervals. 

She seated herself on a patch of thrift, and leaned her 
back against one of the huge balks of creosoted timber 
that held up the bridge. There were many of them. By 
night, looking away to the flashing horizon, through the 
crossing spars, she seemed like a fly caught in a great 
black spider-web. 

She could hear now the patter of the rain in the mud of 
the Fleet, and its rustle on the coarse turf. Then far off 
she heard a mutter from the sea, and in another moment 
a puff of wind rushed through the bridge girders and sup- 
ports, sighing, moaning, whistling, and aloft, above the 
roadway, playing on the telegraph wires as on an ^olian 
harp. Sometimes the distant lightning was white, some- 
times reddish-yellow ; it became more intense, and the 
night became darker. 

Peering forth at the sky she could see no stars, no en- 
tangled light from the north, only black, driving vapor, 
flashing and fading. 

“ There ! ” she exclaimed, as she saw a flash over the 
estuary as though the heavens were torn open, and in the 
white vista she perceived as it were a zigzag rent from top 
to bottom ; and under that blaze the water was visible, as 
white as if run out of moonlight, and in its brilliancy she 
could trace the shape of a ship black as ink, and lines of 
breaking waves, vivid above the light of day on their 
crests, dark as deepest night in their laps. 

“ There ! ” she said again, as she heard the roar of thun- 
der, still distant, but withal loud. 

She was not conscious now of hunger, but of lassitude 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


261 


and faintness. She felt a sense of pleasure stir in her at 
the sight of the lightning and the sound of the approach- 
ing storm. 

“ There I ” she exclaimed again, and drew in her feet, 
and contracted herself against the timber, as she saw a 
yellow speck of light travel along the sea-wall, and then 
approach where she was. As it approached, it widened 
and brightened. 

“ It is father’s lantern,” she said to herself in a whisper. 
She did not think of going to him. She considered only 
how she might conceal herself from him. 

He drew nearer, and by the lightning and his lantern 
light she could make him out, could see the red' tie about 
his throat. He was carrying a spade in one hand, and 
something under the other arm. 

He came near to where she was, but he did not see her. 
The flashing of the lightning dazzled the eyes. He saw 
only what was within the radius of the light from his lan- 
tern. He stood still. There were three great balks rose 
out of the marsh to the roadway, serving as piers for the 
single line of rail, and these were braced and girded with 
other beams a very little way above the ground. 

“ One — two,” said Mr. Shamgar Tapp. 

Jael heard his words. The wind set inwards. She was 
hidden behind the third balk. 

Then her father set down the lantern and turned up the 
turf with his spade. 

Now Jael saw what he had been carrying under his arm. 
It was the preserved ginger-pot that contained the sover- 
eigns that belonged to her mother, and were left to her. 

Now, also, Jael knew what he was about. He was 
aware that the place where the pot had been hidden was 
known to her. He was afraid lest she should go to it, and 
take the money, so he was removing it and hiding it in 
a place where she would not find it. 

Jael laughed bitterly, laughed loudly, but Shamgar did 


262 THE STORY OF JAEL, 

not hear, the wind carried her laugh away from him up the 
Fleet. 

And now,” said Mr. Tapp, as he replaced the turf over 
the pot which he had buried, “ now she can’t lay hand on 
it without my consent.” 

Then he went away, swinging his lantern, with the 
spade over his shoulder, and a sudden, dazzling, blinding 
explosion of lightning showed him to her, mounting the 
sea-wall, with his back to her, going home. 

Then again she laughed, and her laugh was like the cry 
of a gull— but it was blotted out by the boom and bolt and 
rattle of thunder that shook the bridge, and mado the very 
ground on which she sat, and the balk against which she 
leaned, quiver as though the dissolution of all things was 
at hand. 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


263 


CHAPTER VI. 

ON THE ^‘CORDELIA.” 

In the raw morning light, cold, wet, haggard, Jael crept 
down the beach at Brightlingsea. The tide had flowed 
and reached its full height, now it was on the turn, and 
the Cordelia would go out with it. 

The rain had ceased, the thunderstorm had passed away 
and left a wet, chill world behind it. The wind was cold, 
or seemed so to the girl who had been' exposed to it all 
night, crouched under the railway bridge. She had eaten 
nothing for many hours. 

Hold hard, there you are,” said Jeremiah. “ I knew 
you would come. Get into the boat and I will row you 
aboard,” 

A few men stood about, they looked at Jael. 

‘‘ What, Jael, you going a sea-faring ? ” asked one. 

Ay ! Going to see the sights of London,” answered 
Jeremiah, “ under my protection. Here, Jael, be alive ; 
put your foot there, and sit in the bows.” 

In another moment they were afloat, launched — to go 
whither? 

On reaching the Cordelia she was helped up the side. 

“ There, Jael,” said Jeremiah. “ Slip into the fo’castle 
crib and lie quiet till wehe off.” 

The forecastle did not form a cabin, but a covered space 
so low that though one might sit up in it, to stand up in it 
was not possible. It was a convenient place to stow goods 
away, as it was sheltered from the wind and from the wash 
of the waves. Jerry threw in a couple of sacks and bade 
the girl lie on them. 


264 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


“ Oh, Jerry ! ” she pleaded. “ Give me something to eat. 
I have had nothing for a day and a half.” 

Then he brought her some bread and cheese. 

“We shall be off,” he said, “ in half a jiffy, and then you 
have said ‘ Good-bye ’ to your old life and ‘ How-do-you-do ’ 
to the new one.” 

It was as he said. The anchor was raised, the little 
vessel swung over on her side, Jael heard the pleasant 
swash of the water parted by the bows, and through the 
opening of the forecastle saw the grey, dull landscape 
change. The Martello towers passed before the opening 
and the shingly beach with the breakers on it, then the 
vessel strained and went over steeply, and Jael saw nothing 
but sky, morning clouds kindled pink and amber and gold 
from the rising sun. 

She lay quietly on her sacks, resting her cheek in her 
hand, looking out, but only imperfectly seeing the changing 
view, for her mind was otherwise occupied. A feeling of 
alarm crept over her. She had taken a step impossible 
to retrace. She was leaving her home and her father, and 
her girlhood, and was seeking a new home, and new asso- 
ciations, and — she knew not what lay before her. Hitherto 
she had been sustained by sense of wrong done her, wrath 
against the odious woman who had supplanted her, resent- 
ment against her father for his indifference to her happi- 
ness j but now a reaction set in, and her breast was full of 
quiverings, fear and incipient remorse and painful suspense. 

Tom May, a coarse sailor, who did not bear a good char- 
acter, came and looked in, and cut a rude joke, that brought 
the color to her brow, and then the tears into her eyes. 
She did not answer him but turned and looked away from 
the opening to the planks. Then May went off. She knew 
he was gone, for more light filled the low cabin when he 
did not stop the hatch with his body, and she reverted to 
her former position, and again, with dreamy eyes looked 
out. Swash ! T*^e water rushed up the bows and fell over 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


265 


the deck, raining down before the cabin entrance. Some 
of the water ran in, some of the drops were carried on to 
her lips, and were salt, but there were other drops as salt 
on her cheeks that fell from her lashes, and came from 
another sea, a deep sea within, that tossed and foamed, 
and threw up brine, and filled her heart with bitterness. 

Then Jeremiah Mustard came to the entrance and crept 
in a little way, kneeling on one knee, stooping, and hold- 
ing the sides of the hatch. 

“ How are you, Jael ? You do not mind the sea ? ” 

‘‘No, Jerry. 

“ Glad to be away from Mrs. Bagg, eh ? Glad to have 
turned your back on wretchedness and set your face towards 
prosperity, eh ? ” 

“ I don’t know that I am glad,” she said simply, then 
raised her face from her hand, and laid her hands folded on 
the planks. Her right cheek was crimson as a carnation, 
through the pressure of her hand, but the other was very 
pale. “ I am not glad, I am not happy at all. I do not 
feel as if I were sailing out of shadow into sun, but as if 
my boat were dipping and would never come up on another 
wave.” 

“ That is because you haven’t had your proper victuals,” 
explained Jeremiah. “ It is always so, when the meals 
ain’t regular.” 

She made no answer to this, neither consenting to the 
interpretation, not disputing it, but she drew her hand 
across her cheek. 

‘ Has the sea water been in ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ Yes— there’s been a good deal of salt water here,” she 
meant in her eyes, but he did not understand her \ “ and,” 
she went on sadly, “ I think I shall be better when there has 
been more.” Then suddenly she drew herself up from her 
posture of lying on the sacks in the low cabin to her 
knees, and so faced him. The light was behind him, bril- 
liant, for the sun was rising, and the clouds were dazzling 


266 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


as they had been when heaven opened in the lightning 
flash last night. He was between her and the sky, cloud 
and light and sun, and she could not see his face distinctly 
for the brightness behind him. His arms were extended 
clasping the sides of the door, and he was on one knee, 
the other foot was within the little cabin. 

She knelt before him, she clasped her hands and laid 
them on her bosom. 

“ Jerry,” she said ‘‘ you mean fairly, truly, honestly by 
me ? ” 

“ My dear Jael,” he replied, “of course I do. You must 
trust me.” 

“ Trust you,” she said ; “ I have no one else to trust. I 
loved my father, and he has turned against me ; he does 
not love me. He wishes I had been smothered as a babe 
by Mrs. Bagg. He told me so. He was angry with her 
because she had not killed me, when my dear mother died, 
and I was left helpless.” Her voice quivered with emotion, 
her notes were deep, almost masculine, in their hoarseness, 
the hoarseness of intense emotion. 

She recovered herself a little, and still kneeling to him, 
looking at him with great eyes full of entreaty, and with 
the mark of her hand crimson on her right cheek, so that 
every finger was printed as with blood, she said, “ Jerry, 
my mother died, my father hates me. I have no home, I 
have no one to look to, no one to trust, no one to love, no 
one to hold by — but you.” 

“ Well,” said he, “ that’s right.” 

“What ! Right that I should be all alone? No, Jerry, 
I am driven from home because of you. I pray you be 
just, be true to me. I have but you.”’ Then she fell for- 
ward, with her hands outstretched on the planks before 
him, and her fingers touched his foot, her head sank be- 
tween her arms on the floor, and she burst into a storm of 
tears. 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


267 


‘^It’s want of victuals,” said Jerry. “ I’ll see if there’s 
a bit of cold pie.” Then he got up, and went away, and 
left her lying thus, with face and arms on the deck. “ For,” 
said he, “ I can’t bear women’s tears.” Then a great wave 
rushed up and spouted over the bows, and swept the fore- 
castle and swirled in at the lurch and washed over her 
prostrate head and extended arms and hands. 

Presently Jeremiah returned. 

“ There you are,” said he. Here’s veal pie and a cold 
potato, and in this bottle you’ll find rum and water ready 
mixed and not too strong of water. You creep further in, 
and shut the trap, and amuse yourself with what I’ve 
brought. Take my word for it, Jael, after you’ve got the 
better of that pie and come to an understanding with the 
bottle, by that lime the world will look a different color to 
you than it does at this minute j and what is more, by 
and by we’ll be out of this nasty sea, and under the lea of 
the Kent coast and be running into the Thames. If you’d 
prefer to be below in the cabin, come along, but the chaps 
are free-tongued, and you mightn’t like it.” 

“ I will stay here,”- said Jael, in a tone of indifference, 
and then, with sudden vehemence, “ Jerry ! you mean me 
fair. You will not be false with me.” She paused. “ Oh, 
Jerry ! if after I have trusted you, and come away from my 
home with you, were you to be untrue, I would — I would 
— ” she gasped for breath: 

“ What would you do ? ” 

Then her momentary energy gave way, she sank forward, 
with her clenched hands on the boards, and said, “ I do 
not know — I do not know.” 

There,” said Jeremiah, “ let me close the hatch ; you 
go further back, and the water will not come in; you can 
go to sleep and pass the time in pleasant dreams.” Then 
he drew the hatch together and shut her in. 

‘‘ I thought her a beauty once,” he said, “ but she looks as 
if all the beauty had been washed out of her this morning.” 


268 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


CHAPTER VII. 

IN AN EATING-HOUSE. 

So — this is London,” said Jael, looking round at the masts 
and warehouses. She was not cheerful in tone or in 
appearance. The vessel had taken a long time creeping 
up the Thames. She had not been able to remain in her 
forecastle berth, but had come out, leaned over the bul- 
warks and watched the coast, and the ships, the pretty 
wooded hills of Kent, the white chalk pits, the cement 
works smoking, the steamers shooting past, the long flax 
of Essex marsh, the chemical v'orks, that made the air 
poisonous that wafted from them.' 

Jael had asked no questions ; she was not greatly inter- 
ested in what she saw, for she was occupied with her own 
troubles. 

There were four men on the Cordelia^ Tom May, Jerry 
Mustard, and two others ; one of these latter was, how- 
ever, hardly to be designated a man, he was a gawky boy. 
The man she did not know was a swarthy fellow with 
rings in his ears, and spoke broken English. He and May 
addressed her occasionally with offensive familiarity, and 
May put his arm round her waist as she leaned against the 
side looking at the coast. 

Let me go,” said Jael angrily. 

“ You’re so light,” answered May, “ I’m afraid of your 
being blown away.” 

His tone, his look, his freedom offended her, and she 
complained to Jerry, who shrugged his shoulders, and 
said they would soon be in London, and then be quit of 
May and the rest of them. 


THE. STORY OF JAEL. 


269 


At length they entered dock, and Jael looking about 
her, in a tone of discouragement and disappointment said, 
“ So — this is London.-’ 

“ Ay,” answered Jeremiah. “ It is down Surrey side, 
Rotherhithe. You don’t suppose, do you, that we can 
sail up to Westminster Abbey, or Madame Tussaud’s, or 
Buckingham Palace to deliver over our cargo of beans ? 
Come along ashore with me, you have no baggage, and 
we’ll go to an eating-shop and have something good to 
dine on.” 

She followed him with some reluctance, and yet with the 
consciousness that she had committed herself to his 
charge, and that she had gone too far to draw back. But 
she could not shake off her uneasiness and growing regret 
at having acted with such lack of consideration. She 
argued with herself that no other course was open to her, 
that she had no other friend, and yet was unable to con- 
vince herself that she had done right. The conflict in her 
mind had worn her, and her face had lost its freshness, 
and her eye its fire. Moreover, her clothes, exposed to 
rain and sea-water, had become draggled and discolored. 

She looked about the wharves, at the men and bales, and 
the warehouses. Rotherhithe seemed to her a very dingy 
place, not at all equal to her anticipation of what London 
should be. 

Jerry led her to an eating house, and ordered dinner. 
As they sat alone together in a compartment, with a table 
between them, and a dirty cloth over it, stained with ale 
and gravy, she was silent for a while, and then abruptly 
asked : 

“ Jerry ! Why did Captain May say I was light and 
might be blown overboard ? ” 

How am I to understand his words ? ” asked the young 
man in reply. 

“ He chuckled and looked at that foreign fellow with the 


270 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


earrings, and then at the boy and laughed, and the boy 
laiiglied aloud. What did he mean ? ” 

“ He was a fool to say it. He showed his ignorance,” 
answered Jeremiah Mustard. 

“ But what did he mean ?” She looked across the table 
at him, and leaned her chin in her hands, and her elbows 
on the dirty table, and with her great dark eyes fixed on 
his, insisted on an explanation. 

The young man played with the steel-pronged fork set 
in a black handle, tapping it on the table, and laughed. 
He was a handsome fellow, remarkably handsome, with 
curly chesnut hair, and fine eyes, dark as those of Jael, but 
without their fire and expressiveness. His nose was well- 
shaped, and the mouth woilld have been beautiful had it 
been furnished with lips less thick. 

“ Well, Jael,” he said reluctantly, “ I suppose he thought 
you light to fly away with me \ but he was wrong, you 
know. He knew nothing of how you were weighted.” 

“ Now,” said the girl slowly, “ I do not understand you.” 

Neither spoke for a while. Presently Jeremiah began 
to complain that the dinner was not served, they were kept 
waiting an unreasonable time, and then explained that the 
hour was not that at which customers were expected at the 
eating-house, so that nothing was ready. Jael did not pay 
attention to his complaints and explanations. 

“ We’ll have something to drink first,” he said. 

“Jerry,” said the girl, “ when are we to be married r It 
must be at once.” 

“ How can it be at once ? ” he asked roughly. “ Our 
banns have not been called, and if we get a licence it will 
cost us at least a guinea. You don’t suppose it worth a 
guinea — why that would be eight acres in the Dominion 
of Canada. And for banns we should have to spend three 
weeks waiting. We must get to Liverpool and on to the 
sea before that. We can be married in America, or, if 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


271 


there’s a parson on the ship that takes us over, we will get 
spliced then. Don’t bother yourself about that.” 

But I do, Jerry. We must be married at once if it 
does cost a guinea.” 

“ Here ! ” called Jerry to the shabby woman who attended 
on the tables as waitress, “ you bring a pint of bitter, and 
be sharp.” 

This was produced more quickly than the required meat 
and vegetables. Jeremiah took a long draught, and then 
passed the pewter across to Jael, who shook her head. 

“ Well, if you won’t, others will,” said Mustard, and 
again applied his lips to the tankard. When he had set it 
down, he said, “You don’t guess what a chance I have 
given up for you, Jael. Do you know Argent Soames ? ” 

“ Only by name.” 

“ He has got a mighty fine daughter — Julia.” 

Jael looked at him hastily. 

“ Argent Soames has sometimes to do with the B. & W. 
Railway, and I might have had a post on it, if I had liked, 
that would have suited me beautifully.” 

“ But you could not take it. You had enlisted.” 

“ Oh, gammon about that ! ” 

“ What do you mean, Jerry ? ” 

“ You are not so soft as that, are you ? ” 

She looked intently at him with perplexity in her great 
eyes. She was still resting her chin in her hands. 

“ That was all fudge,” explained Jeremiah. “ You don’t 
mean to tell me that you believed I had enlisted ? ” 

“ You told me that you had.” 

“ Oh yes, I did say so, but that . is no reason why you 
should have believed it.” 

“ You said it, so of course I believed it. Did you not 
enlist, Jerry ? ” 

He raised the pewter again to drink, partly to cover his 
confusion, for her true eyes searchingly fixed on him made 
him feel uncomfortable. 


THE STORY OF yAEL. 


272 

“ By George ! ” he said, ‘‘ I wish you would not stare a 
fellow out of countenance. It isn’t womanly, it isn’t respect- 
ful.” 

“ I want to know if you did not enlist, Jerry.” 

“ No, I did not.” 

“ Then why did you say you had ? ” 

“ Because — I didn’t think I’d persuade you otherwise to 
come away with me.” 

“ It was a lie,” she said, and worked her elbows im- 
patiently, angrily, on the table. 

“ Now, don’t put yourself out,” said Mustard, you’re 
irritable for want of victuals. It is always so when the 
meals aren’t regular. Have some bitter, it is cool, and rare 
stuff.” He thrust the tankard towards her again. Again 
she shook her head, this time angrily. And now her eyes 
began to flash. 

“ It was a lio^, then,” she said. 

“Well,” he apologized, “ I wouldn’t call it that. I had 
more than half a mind to enlist, and I swear to you, I 
would have done so had not Argent Soames offered to take 
me on to the line. I would have liked that. I’ve tried it 
afore, and I can drive an engine as well as any one. Be- 
sides, it’s not hard to run one between Wyvenhoe and 
Brightlingsca, and back again from Brightlingsea to Wy- 
venhoe — a chap can’t go wrong so long as the bridge be 
right. You see the B. and W. has got across with the 
G.E.R. again, and she’s going to set up her own station, 
and work her own engines, and not allow a G.E.R. man on 
her premises. By gorr ! She’s right. Why should the 
G.E.R. suck her blood? derive all the profits? The profits 
must be great, such a lot of oysters travel now-a-days from 
Brightlingsea. Shut those confounded eyes of yours, or 
look elsewhere. There’s an advertisement of Guinness’ 
Stout may interest you. Stare at that, if you please, and 
not at me.” 

“ If you did not enlist, you did not desert? ” 




THE STORY qf JAEL. 

He attempted to put her down with bluster. “ You are a 
fool to ask such a question. How could I desert if I did not 
enlist ? As well expect a man to take off his coat when he 
has not drawn one on. I wish I’d a paper here. You — ” 
(to the waitress) “ bring me the Daily Telegraph^ 

He was given the newspaper ; he opened it and held it 
up before him as a screen between himself andjael. She 
put up her hand and beat it down tearing it in two as she 
did so. 

“ Now, tnen,” said he, “see what you have done. You’ll 
have to pay a penny for that. Look at that woman if you 
want an engaging object of study, not at me.” 

“Why did you tell me you had deserted?” asked Jael 
with persistency. She was a girl with strong will and much 
passion, and both were being roused by the falsehood and 
treachery of the man she had loved. 

“ Why did I tell you ? ” he repeated, and laughed mock- 
ingly, and held up his hand between himself and her to shut 
off the level steady glance of her eyes. “ Why ? If you 
want to be satisfied, I won’t balk you of your pleasure. Be- 
cause I thought you wouldn’t take the money unless you 
had to buy me out.” 

“ I am glad,” she said, with constraint in her voice, “ I 
am glad for one thing that you are not a deserter.” 

“ And what is that one reason ? ” 

He looked at her, but could not bear her eyes, and put 
up his open hand again. Her eyes pierced him, shone like 
the sun into the vile chamber of his heart and showed even 
to himself how full of foulness it was. 

“ I am glad,” she said, “ because only for that ten pounds 
was I tempted to take the money.” 

“ But as I do not want it for Her Majesty, we will spend 
it in acres — eighty of them.” 

“ I have not got the money. I did not take it.” 

“ What ? ” He started to his feet with an oath. 


274 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


No, Jeremiah ! I was tempted — for the sake of the ten 
pounds to buy you out — but I did not touch it.” 

“ You have not the fifty sovereigns ? ” 

“ No, Jeremiah, I could not touch them. I tried to reason 
with myself that I might take — not all, that I never could 
have taken — but a part, just ten pounds ; but — ” 

“ But what ? ” He had clenched his fists ; he stood 
opposite her, at^the table, she with her chin in her hands, 
and her elbows on the table, looking up at him. His blood 
mounted to his face, flushed his cheeks, kindled his eyes. 

“ But,” she continued, I could not touch any of the 
money. It seemed to me that it would be like robbing my 
father. I knew that the money was mine — and yet I could 
not believe I had a right to it against his will. So — I let it 
lie where it was.” 

“ You fool ! ” he shouted, with a curse, and struck her in 
the face with his clenched fist. “ You fool ! Do you think 
I cared a snap of the fingers for you I There are other and 
handsomer girls in the world than you. And now — I have 
lost the place Argent Soames offered me all through you.” 

He would have struck her again, but she stood up. The 
blow had dazed her for a moment and made sparks shoot 
before her eyes, but she speedily recovered herself. She 
stood up, drew herself to her full height, and tried to speak. 
Not a word would come. Her bosom was heaving as the 
sea in a storm. Flashes came and went in her eyes as the 
summer lightning had come and gone in the sky that night 
as she watched it from under the railway bridge that spanned 
Gull-Fleet. Her hands were clenched at her side. Between 
her eyes, on her brow, was a red mark, where his hand had 
struck her. 

At that moment the waitress appeared with plates. 

“ Irish stew, by all that is glorious ! It is want of victuals 
has upset me, and I did express myself too strongly. There, 
Jael, sit down to the stew.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


275 


She did not speak ; with her hands still clenched, with her 
teeth set, her brows contracted, without a word she left the 
eating-house. 

“ Well,” said Jeremiah, “ I must eat both portions. What 
a mercy it is I do dote on Irish stew 1 ” 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


276 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE ROAD, 

Jael left the eating-house, left the neighborhood of the 
Rotherhithe Docks, found her way from the Surrey side of 
the Thames into London proper, and thence, as quickly as 
she could, disentangled herself from the endless, mono- 
tonous, and hideous streets of the outskirts of the great 
city that sprawled to the east and north-east. She had 
plenty of intelligence, and though she had lost her power 
of speech under provocation, found it when she had occa- 
sion to ask her way. She was not without money, though 
she had not taken any of the contents of the preserved 
ginger pot. Her father had been wont to entrust some of 
his weekly earnings to her, and she had this with her, tied 
up in a pocket-handkerchief. It was not much, but it was 
sufficient for her modest requirements — enough to enable 
her to take a ticket on the Great Eastern Railway back to 
Colchester, but it did not occur to her to take it. Indeed, 
she had asked solely for the road to Colchester ; she could 
not think out what was best to be done under the circum- 
stances. She acted on the impulse of the moment, and 
when she had discovered how unworthy Jeremiah Mustard 
was of the trust she had reposed in him, she felt the neces- 
sity for her immediate return to her father — ^and the nearest 
town, the market town, the point of gravitation for all the 
neighborhood to which she belonged, was Colchester. 
Accordingly, she asked the road to Colchester. Of Bishops- 
gate Street Station she knew nothing. That it was possible 
for her to get across by a ticket from Rotherhithe, by 
Wapping and Whitechapel, to Shoreditch, could not occur 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


277 


to her, profoundly ignorant of London topography, and 
the routes and ramifications of the lines. 

She was content to cross to Limehouse, and through 
Poplar, to reach the road by Barking to Chelmsford. 

But Jacl. did not get far along this road at once. The 
exposure to rain, to sea-water and cold, the distress of her 
mind, her disappointment, and her wrath at the insult 
offered her by the man to whom she had clung, combined 
to break down her robust health. She knew that she was 
going to be ill, she felt that fever had hold of her, and she 
fought against it. She walked on, determind not to yield. 

There were tramps on the road. There had been a gaol 
delivery that morning, and some of those who had come 
forth were starting on the eastern circuit. She was caught 
up by men in ragged clothes, with short hair, and repulsive 
faces, large jaws, and retreating brows, who sought to get 
into conversation with her, who joked, and attempted fa- 
miliarities. They mistook her for one of themselves, or at 
least for a tramp, in her draggled garments, battered straw 
hat, with her uncombed hair, and because unencumbered 
with luggage. She halted to let them pass. She affected 
to be lame, that she might not detain them, but time was 
not precious to persons of this sort. They would lounge 
along, by choice, slowly ; a brisk walk was what they did 
not affect. Then, when Jael discovered this, she put forth 
her utmost strength, and these fellows, out of wickedness 
suspecting her intention, strode out at her side. 

Tears of mortification and anger came into her eyes. This 
was all part of the shame and humiliation brought on her 
by Jerry. She hated him, she clenched her teeth, when she 
thought of him. How much she owed him which she could 
never repay ! Oh ! if only the chance should come to her, 
when she could settle her account with him. To escape the 
odious persecution of her companions she turned down a 
side road, and along this they were indisposed to follow her. 
She would not travel by the main highway, she would 


278 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


ramble along the coast. If she followed the coast she must, 
in time, reach Bradwell Point, with its ancient chapel, a point 
she could see from Brightlingsea. Then she would manage 
to get put by boat across the mouth of the Blackwater, and 
walk to Fingrinhoe, and thence take the ferry to Wyvenhoe, 
and so along the well-known line, home to the little wooden 
hut by the bridge. Now she found herself more entangled 
than she had been in the suburbs of London. There she 
was able to give a clear direction when she asked her way, 
now she could not. When she inquired, she was told to 
return to the high-road. 

After wandering ineffectually for some time she returned 
to the great artery of traffic. 

A man with a cart was going along as she entered it, and 
in the cart were coals. She was very tired, the hedges 
danced before her eyes, and her knees gave way under her. 
She went to the driver and asked if he were going far on 
the road. 

A matter of three or four miles,” he replied. 

Would he give her a lift ? She would pay him. Yes, 
she might step up on the shaft, and sit in front, and if she 
wanted something for her back, there was a sack of coals, 
not clean, to be sure, but, as he judged, her gown was 
past taking much hurt from coals. 

He helped her up, and she took her place. 

“ From town ? ” he asked, looking scrutinizingly at her. 

She nodded. 

“ But you ain’t a cockney, I can see.” 

“ No, I am not.” 

No ; gals from London ain’t got your complexion. 
Been in London long ? ” 

“ No — a very little while.” 

He whipped the horse, and the cart went on. The posi- 
tion was not a comfortable one that Jael occupied. She 
held the front of the cart on which she sat with both hands 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 2jg 

firmly to keep herself in place. She did not like to lean 
back against the filthy coal sacks. 

Her feet swung very near the tail of the horse, and now 
and then the horse switched his tail and drew the long hairs 
over her soiled boots. The horse was a chestnut, with very 
light mane and tail, the color of tan. Jael looked down, 
in a dream, and watched the muscles in the back of the 
horse as he went heavily on. She was thinking of Jeremiah ; 
anger simmered in her heart. Had she ever loved him ? 
She did not know. She had liked him, had believed in him ; 
but she had never felt hot and dominant love for him. Now 
she felt nothing but hatred against him, and a consuming 
desire to revenge herself on him. Why had she not snatched 
up the knife on the table, when he struck her, and driven it 
into his heart ? It had not occurred to her at the moment 
to do so. Dazzled by the blow, she had not seen the knife. 
Had she seen it then, undoubtedly she would have killed 
him with it. She would have been sent to prison and been 
hanged, had she killed him. She laughed. That was 
nothing to her. She would gladly die to be able to revenge 
herself on him. 

What did he mean by that hint about Argent Soames* 
daughter Julia ? Jael knew that Julia Soames was reputed 
to be a good-looking girl, but not a beauty. 

What was Jeremiah going to do now that his fine scheme 
of going to America had fallen through ? He wanted to 
start in Canada on her— Jael’s — money. If he had got that 
money into his possession, he would have retained it for 
himself and given her — Jael— the go-by. He was capable 
of any meanness. 

She had not thought it possible that a man could be so 
base. 

She was startled from her reverie by the voice of the 
carter. 

“ Where do you come from? ” 

“ Essex.” 


28 o 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


“ We’re in Essex now. S and X are two letters, but 
there’s a lot of space between them.” 

Near Colchester.” 

“ You have not been long in town ? ” 

“ No — I said not.” 

“ I know you’ve not, or you would have lost the sun’s 
kisses off your cheeks. Have you relations there ? ” 

“ No.” 

Have you been in a situation ? ” 

No.” 

‘‘Nor friends there ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ What then took you there ? ” 

Jael was silent. She could not answer him. 

“ Any brothers and sisters, eh ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Mother and father alive ? ” 

“ Father.” 

“ Did you go alone to town ? ” 

Again she was silent. 

Then he laughed, and said, “Had enough of town, 
eh?” 

, She did not answer him. 

Then with the end of his .whip he nudged her ribs and 
under her arm, and said giggling, “ I see it all. The old 
story. Went with a sweetheart, eh ? ” 

She was silent. Her brows were drawn together and 
over her eyes, and her fingers clenched the rail of the cart 
as if they would drive their way into the hard wood. “ And 
he’s deserted you. The old tale, the old tale ! ” 

He put up his whip end again to jog her in the side, but 
she flared up in rage, wrenched it from his hand, and lashed 
with it — this way, that way — at him, at the horse, crying 
out, blind and bewildered with anger, and fever, and 
delirium, thinking that she was striking at Jeremiah, that 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 281 

the carter was he, and he was jeering her, and making 
merry at her misery. 

Then the chestnut horse dashed forward, and the whip 
fell from her hand, and she remembered no more, only that 
the tawny tail of the horse was not a tail at all, but a wave 
of the sea that rushed over her ; and that the rattle of the 
cart was not the rattle of the cart at all, but the rumble and 
roar of the thunder, that followed the summer lightning. 
But why there was thunder and no lightning, and why the 
wave washed over her without chilling her — that she could 
not understand. The chestnut horse was too old, unaccus- 
tomed to run, too used to the whip, and too heavily taxed 
with the coals to run far and run fast. The carter was 
after him, shouting, and the chestnut was speedily brought 
to a standstill. Then with curses the fellow scrambled up 
on the shaft and saw that Jael had fallen back among the 
coal sacks and was unconscious. 

“ Here’s a go,” said the man. “ Dang me if I know what 
is to be done. Whether she’s a crazy thing or whether 
she’s sick. How am I to know ? However, she can lie as 
she is.” He whipped on the horse. “ We ain’t far from 
Romford, and the relieving officer lives just outside. I can 
knock him up, and chuck her in at his door.” 

The sun had set, and the soft summer twilight had 
descended as a veil over the landscape. Lights were 
kindled in the windows of Romford, and the glow over 
London in the rear began to take the place of the haze of 
smoke that marked the site of the metropolis during the 
day — even a summer’s day. 

The carter drew up at a house in the outskirts of the 
town of Romford, and knocked at the door. 

“ I say,” he remarked to the florid man who came out, 
“ here’s a pretty kick-up. ’Taint a corpse, it’s a poor lost 
creature I’ve got in my cart tumbled in somewhere among 
the coals. There ’d be no peace for me if I were to take 
such as she home \ the missus would sweep her out with 


282 THE STORY OF JAEL, 

one end of the besom, and give my back and head a taste 
of the other.” 

‘‘ She must go to the workhouse,” said the relieving 
officer. “ Take her there at once.” 

“ Oh, yes,” retorted the carter. “ But I’ve my coals. I’m 
not going out of the way with her. What be you called a 
relieving officer for, but because you’re paid by the rates to 
relieve us of the nuisance of caring for the sick and the 
poor and the old ? ” 

“ Get out, hussy ! ” shouted the functionary of mercy, 
going to the side of the cart and hammering with his fist on 
the shaft. “ Now then ! No shamming. I knov.’’ your 
ways — you’re all alike,” then he turned to the carter and 
with raised eyebrows inquired “ Drunk ? ” 

‘‘Don’t know,” answered the fellow. “ Can’t be sure ; 
didn’t smell any spirits. But she’s gone on in a wonder- 
fully comical style. Nigh on upset the cart, she did.” 

“ Drunk,” said the relieving officer. “ We’ll see to her : 
We’ll make her dance ! We’ll bring her to her senses ! 
Come along, you ! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself wallow- 
ing in the coals that fashion? Ugh ! You old Jezebel.” 

“ She’s quite young — not above nineteen, and un-common 
pretty,” said the carter. 

“ Is she so ? ” asked the officer; then in a soft and win- 
ning tone to Jael, “ Come, my pretty. Hop up, my 
duck ! I’ll see to your comforts and take you to the 
workhouse, and there you shall have a nice supper and a 
bed, — and — and — and after them coals you’ll want it — a 
good wash.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


283 


CHAPTER IX. 

VAN PASSENGERS. 

Six weeks had passed since Jael ran away from home, and 
she had not returned. She had been taken to the work- 
house, and thence to the hospital, as she was ill, in a fever 
and unconscious. She pulled through because she had a 
splendid constitution, but she did not recover rapidly. Her 
mind was ever working. She could not rest and recruit. 
The overstrained body needs relaxation that it may recover 
its vigor. The mind also, when it has been disturbed by 
harrowing cares, should also lie down, stretch itself, thaw 
in the sun, close its spiritual eyes, think of nothing, ask no 
questions of the present, and especially of the future, roll 
up the past and put it out of sight, and exist. It should 
be as the still basking butterfly on the wall in autumn, 
enjoy the soft air and the warm sun, and put out of con- 
sideration the storms and frosts of winter that are coming. 
When the mind can do this, it rapidly recovers fibre and 
elasticity, but if it goes on working, tossing, grasping, 
beating itself, then it ta es a long time for renewal. The 
body may gain its losses, but the mind does not keep pace 
with it, and the result is a feeble flight like that of the bird 
with lopped wing. 

Jael did not at all know how her father would receive 
her. She reproached herself for having run away. She 
had been angry with Mrs. Bagg, but had not her father a 
right to bring the widow into the house ? She, Jael, had 
not made him as comfortable as might be. She had brought 
herself up without system, with no one to direct her, to 
show her how household duties should be performed. She 


284 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


had preferred to play on the marsh, to tease her gull, to row 
on the water, to loiter along the sea wall watching tne 
ships. She had preferred idleness to work, and the result 
had been that her father had become impatient at his dis- 
comforts, and had resolved to make for himself a belter 
home than she could give him. Was he to blame ? Did 
he take Mrs. Bagg because he had forgotten Jael’s mother ? 
He took Mrs. Bagg to manage for him because Mrs. Bagg 
cooked 'beef instead of converting it into leather, and 
baked bread without forgetting the salt and making it 
insipid, and put on the table-cloth evenly, and made the 
beds without leaving a strip of blanket at the bottom ex- 
posed, and swept up the hearth, and polished the brass 
candlesticks, and sewed up the splits in Mr. Tapp’s gar- 
ments. 

What would be her own reception when she returned? 
Jael asked, and trembled at the answer she gave herself. 
What would be thought of her ? How could she vindi- 
cate her character ? Was not that irretrievably smirched ? 
Would all her assurances serve to wash it clean? Now 
she saw how foolish she had been to trust to the word of 
Jeremiah, to put the least weight on his advice. All might 
have been well had he proved true. They might have been 
married and on their way to America. From Liverpool 
she would have written to her father and told him how 
sorry she was to have run away, but that she could not bear 
to live in the same house with Mrs. Bagg, whether as 
housekeeper or wife to her father. She had been forced 
to throw herself on the protection of the man who loved 
her and promised to make a home for her in the New 
World. As for the money her mother had left, he must 
do with that as he deemed best. If, by her running away, 
she had forfeited it, let him keep it and do with it what 
he willed, she would not reproach him, but if he forgave 
her, and thought she still had a claim on the- money, then — 
but there! as Jael’s mind ran on in this fashion, and she 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


285 


was in imagination writing her letter to the deserted, 
offended parent, the chilling remembrance came on her 
that it was in vain ; Jeremiah had proved false, and she 
was returning to her father, as to the only one who could 
shelter her. Whether he would receive her after what had 
taken place — that was the question, and with this question 
she proceeded to torture herself. 

Even if he did receive her, he could not maintain her for 
long in idleness. For what was she fit ? No respectable 
man would wish to marry her after her elopement to 
London, no decent housewife would desire to have her as 
servant.. Besides, she was not fit for domestic service. 
She did all things badly. She sewed barbarously, she 
cooked atrociously, she was not tidy in housework. The 
only thing she could do was row. Yes, she could mind a 
bridge — a swing bridge — but what railway would entrust 
a swing bridge to her ? Besides, swing bridges were not 
plentiful. 

Jerry — ^Jerry was the cause of all this doubt and wretched- 
ness. He it was who had lured her from home, and cast a 
blight over her life and made the future blank to her. 
Where now was he ? What was he doing ? Then she tossed 
in body as in mind, and moaned, and bit her bedclothes 
and tore holes in them, and when rebuked, bit her fingers 
and tore them till they bled and stained the pillow and 
sheets, and was scolded again. 

At length, in spite of the fevered mind that would not 
sleep and smile and become cool, she was pronounced 
sufficiently recovered to leave the hospital. Then a kind 
lady who had seen her in the ward gave her an old gown 
of her own, and a dark bonnet, for her straw hat was bat- 
tered and torn, and her cotton dress was stained with the 
sea water and coal grime past use ; she gave her also a 
shawl for her shoulders, and spoiled her kindness, not in- 
tentionally, by giving Jael much moral advice and earnest 
adjuration, believing her to be what she was not. This 


286 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


angered Jael, and she refused the garments, but then con- 
sidered that the hospital visitor was not to blame in mis- 
reading her story. Jael could not tell her the truth, she 
was too proud. But she humbled herself somewhat, and 
half penitently, half sulkily, accepted the gown and bonnet 
and shawl, and the packet of tracts that was thrust into 
her hands, and trudged away, with bitterness in her heart, 
and shame and anger staining her cheek. 

She threw the tracts over the hedge into a pond when 
she got outside Romford. She had looked at the titles of 
some, and they made her more angry. 

In her pocket was still a little money. She went to tne 
station and took a third-class ticket for Colchester. When 
she had taken this she had but a sixpence left. 

“ That will serve,” she muttered. “ I will go by carrier to 
Wyvenhoe, and walk thence along the railway embank- 
ment. It is not allowed, but that doesn’t matter. I belong 
to the B. and W. R.” 

The good lady who had supplied her with the tracts had 
thought also of bodily nourishment, and Jael found a 
packet of sandwiches in the pocket of the gown. “ The 
sixpence will just do,” she said. “ To-day is market day at 
Colchester, the carrier’s van will be at the ‘ Plough.’ I can 
get into it, sit behind, draw my shawl over my face, and 
eat the sandwiches, and wait till the horse be put to. No 
one will interfere with me. No one will know me.” 

Jael did not leave Romford till after noon, and it was 
evening when she reached Colchester. She at once went 
to the inn where the Wyvenhoe carrier put up, and entered 
his van. This was a long covered waggon, with side and 
back of black tarpaulin stretched on a frame. It was open 
only in front ; it had seats down the sides and at the end. 
Jael ensconced herself at the extremity, in the darkest 
corner, and drew her shawl about her, so as to partly screen 
her face. 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


287 


“ Now then,” said the carrier, climbing in. “ Oh ! how 
doy’ do, ma’am — or miss, is it ? A passenger to Wyven- 
hoe ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ We don’t start for twenty minutes. I’ve to pack in all 
my commissions. You’ll excuse me if I incommode you, 
miss. Let me see ! There’s the camellia from Mr. Cant, 
the nurseryman, for the vicar ; and there’s the writing 
stand-up desk from the National Society De-pot for the 
schoolmaster ; and the laundry stove, and the flat irons, 
and the elbow and chimney, and the painted iron wire, from 
Messrs. Catchpool, for the Laundry Company, Limited ; 
and there’s four pairs of stays to choose from for Mrs* 
Pudney from Ager’s ; and there’s four and twenty copies 
of the Police News to distribute, and one Ancie?it and 
Modern^ and a baby’s bottle.” He checked off his com- 
missions on his fingers. “Then there’s the drench for 
Master Pullen’s cow, and the boots to choose from sent by 
Mr. Pocock ; and the cold-drawn castor oil, and a packet 
of butterscotch from Sheldrake ; and to mind and tell 
Malonie, the chimney-sweep, that if he don’t come sharp 
and clean the chimleys at the old Hall, they’ll shoot guns 
up ’em and do without chimney-sweeps’ brushes. Now 
then, miss, would you mind ? Come — will you sit for’ard 
and enjoy the air and the scenery, or will you sit back and 
let me pack the commissions in afront of you ? Back is it ? 
Very well, miss. Here’s the schoolmaster’s desk, takes up 
a lot of room, but I’ll stow the camellia under it, and so too 
the ironing stove. Perhaps you won’t mind putting of your 
foot between them, lest in the jolting of the van the stove 
should crack the pot. I might shove in straw, but then in 
going up hill the heavy articles will work back’ards, and in 
going down they’ll be for’ard in their movements, and the 
straw might get displaced ; so, miss, if you don’t mind, I’d 
prefer your foot. If you could conveniently get the foot 
across so as to hold the stove with the heel, and the camellia 


288 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


pot with the toe, it would be more springy, and safer for 
both. Lor’ bless me ! I’d almost forgotten the rolls of 
wall-paper, at eightpence, for Mrs. Baker. Perhaps, miss, 
you’d find it no inconvenience to take the cow-drench, and 
the feeding-bottle, and the cold-drawn castor oil on your 
lap. It would be safer for them, and greatly oblige me. 
I’ve shoved the bag of boots under the seat, and you can 
sit upon the pairs of stays.” Then the carrier surveyed his 
arrangements. “ Lord love you 1 I’m sorry you’re so 
stuffed in behind, but it was your own wish not to be forward. 
I don’t think we shall have many passengers back. Coming 
with me, sir ? ” (addressing a young man who approached 
the van.) 

“ Yes — room for two to Wyvenhoe ?” 

Room for a score, sir — you and Miss Soames, certainly.” 

A spasm shot through Jael’s heart ; the voice was that 
of Jeremiah, and he was with Julia, the daughter of Argent 
Soames. 

She drew her shawl over her bonnet, so as to completely 
hide her face, but she saw the young man help up his com- 
panion on the box. 

How long before you start, Fincham ? ’ 

“ Directly, sir. I shall harness the horse at once.” 

“ Time for me to go to the tap and have a drink,” said 
Jeremiah, and disappeared into the bar. 

In ten minutes the grey horse was between the shafts, 
and Jeremiah Mustard appeared, wiping his mouth, and 
sprang on the shaft, and without looking into the depths of 
the van, said to the carrier, “ Fincham ! you’ve a good 
load.” 

“ Middling, Mr. Mustard. Not much in the way of 
passengers — I mean in quantity : quality is everything I 
could wish.” 

Going to have a dirty night,” said Jeremiah. 

“ Middling, sir,” answered the carrier. “ I don’t think 
there’ll be wind ; but it’s the fog is driving in from the sea, 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 289 

we’ll have it thick as smoke.” Then he cracked his whip, 
and the grey horse, understanding the signal, shambled on. 

Either Jerry and his companion did not notice that 
there was a third passenger in the van, or they were 
indifferent to the presence of one, for they talked to each 
other unconcernedly, and Jerry put his arm round Julia’s 
waist to hold her, lest the shaking of the van should dis- 
lodge her from her seat. At first, as the wheels went over 
the pavement of the street, Jael could not hear what 
was said, perhaps they did not speak much, owing to the 
rattle, but when once out of the town, on the sandy road, 
they talked with great freedom and unconcern. 

“What time have you to be back at Brightlingsea? ” 
asked Julia. 

“ I’ve got to run the engine with a score of empty 
trucks at ten, not before, and we shall go together then. 
Well, now what will your father say when we spring the 
news on him ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Julia, with a falter in her voice. 
“ It doesn’t seem to me quite right, going and getting 
married at the Registrar’s without his knowing anything 
about it — and when it’s done, telling him.” 

“ My dear, it is all right. Trust me. What is the good 
of loving a man if you don’t trust him ? I like runaway 
matches on principle. It does put the father into such a 
corner ; he must come round ; he can’t help himself. He 
has no other way out than coming round.” 

“ But he will be angry.” 

“ Oh, yes, at first because he has not been asked ; but 
he must come round. I put it to you frankly. Can he 
do anything else ? He can’t stick in the corner all the 
rest of his natural life with his face to the wall. Look 
here, Julia ! ” 

He unfolded a great sheet of paper, colored red. 

“ There’s going to be a grand concert of African Seren- 
aders to-night at the Town Hall in Colchester. Sixteen of 

19 


290 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


them — black as coffins. If we hadn’t been married to day, 
and weren’t expected back at Brightlingsea by my mother, 
rd have gone and heard them singing. 

“ We are expected ? ” 

“ Yes. I told my mother to make all ready for us. 
You shall come with me on the engine when I run the 
empty trucks. I told mother to have supper ready — Irish 
stew. I do love Irish stew above everything.” 

“ But— my father ” 

“ We’ll announce it to him when we get to Wyvenhoe — 
knock old Argent Soames into aheap; and we 'shall be 
off whether he comes round to-night or not. Take my 
word for it, he’ll come round more rapid than an engine 
on a turn-table. No man likes a corner.” 

Julia was silent. 

“Isay,” observed Jeremiah, “was it a hundred you 
said your mother left you in the funds ? ” 

“Yes, Jerry.” 

“ And no one can meddle with it — I mean your father 
can’t keep you out of it, even if he remains in his corner 
rubbing his nose against the wall .? ” 

“ I think not.” 

“ By George ! Julia, we’ll buy the Cordelia ; Tom May 
will have to sell her ; and we’ll build a beautiful house 
with green doors and windows and white curtains, and an 
umbrella stand in the hall.” 

Again a silence ensued. Julia began to fidget. 

“Jerry,” she said in a low voice, but with some sharp- 
ness in it, although so low — like a very small pocket-knife 
blade, “Jerry, I never properly understood about you and 
that — that girl Jael. What was that story ? ” 

“ I’m glad you’ve mentioned it,” said Jeremiah, clearing 
his throat. “ Drat it ! how the fog fills one’s lungs. I’m 
glad you’ve mentioned it, because I can explain the 
whole matter so easy. Poor thing ! poor thing ! I and 
Tom May were going in the Cordelia to London with a 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


29I 

cargo of beans and peas, and when we’d got to sea I 
chanced to go for’ard and look into the fo’castle, ’twixt 
decks, and what should I see but a young woman curled 
up there. Hullo ! ” shouted I, “ how came you there ? 
And who are you ? ” Then she came out looking awful 
frightened, and said as how her father was going to marry 
again, and she didn’t like it, and wanted to go to London 
and see a bit of life there, and so she’d come and hid in 
the Cordelia unbeknown to me and May.” 

What happened to her ? ” 

Well, we couldn’t pitch her overboard. We took her 
on to Rotherhithe, and there we lost her. She went her 
way, we went ours. But I do confess,” said Jeremiah, “ I 
did deal handsome by the poor creature. I took her to 
an eating-house, and I ordered a pint of bitter, and the 
Daily JVews, and Irish stew. What more could she 
have ? ” 

“ Then you lost sight of her? ” 

“ Yes ; I didn’t want to see more of her. I was sighing 
for my Julia. I came back and took the situation I had 
been offered, owing to the quarrel between the G.E.R. and 
the B. and W.R.. and the strike of the engine-drivers. 
You see, I’ve been on the line a while before, and know 
the working of an engine just as I know that of a ship. 
But if you love me, Julia, and wish to make home a para- 
dise, and fill it with sunshine and smiles, have Irish stew 
on Tuesdays — once a week, anyhow. By George ! here 
we are at Wyvenhoe. Get out, Julia. You must do it — 
break the news to your father. I’ll go into the public- 
house close by, and when it’s done you come by the win- 
dow, warbling, ‘ I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,’ 
and I’ll come out and go to your father with you — that is, 
behind you — and throw myself on my knees before him, 
and he’ll tell me about that hundred pounds.” 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


292 


CHAPTER X. 

THE SWING BRIDGE. 

When the author was a child his nurse was wont to tell 
him stories. They began well, they proceeded well, but 
presently — as his little heart palpitated with wonder, sym- 
pathy, interest — a chill came over it, as he perceived that 
all the dramatis 'per sonoe of the tale were converging, by 
various paths, towards one point, and that point was a 
bridge, and he knew that inevitably the end of the stories 
would be 

“The bridge bended 

And so my story ended.” 

However well they began, however skilfully they were 
worked to a climax, the miserable conclusion in all was the 
same, with pitiful detested uniformity — 

“The bridge bended 
And so my story ended.” 

How he would writhe on his nurse’s knee, and hold up his 
hands entreatingly, and plead with earnest eyes, and try 
to stay the words on her lips, or divert her thoughts into 
another channel, that there might be some variety in the 
conclusions, that Jack and Jill, and Tom and Poll, and 
Launcelot and Guinever, might not all put their feet on that 
unstable bridge, and so their story go down in a tragic, yet 
impotent conclusion. “ It is of no use, my dear boy,” said 
nurse, “ it can’t be otherwise. It is impossible for me to 
change the dhiouementT — no ! she did not use that word. 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


293 


I forget the word she employed. There is but one end 
permissible, but one conceivable — 

“ The bridge bended 

And so my story ended.” 

When the author of this tale had written the heading to 
this final chapter, a qualm came over him j he knew that to 
some of his readers reminiscences would arise of nursery 
tales, and with a scream they would start from the perusal, 
run away with their hands over their eyes, and shriek, “ We 
know it — 

‘The bridge bended 
And so the story ended.’ ” 

But, dear readers, have patience. The writer is not your 
nurse. He is emancipated from the thraldom of those rules 
once believed inexorable ; he is not bound to end his story 
by the pattern prescribed in the nursery. 

When Clovis came to his baptism, St. Remigius thus 
addressed the haughty king : “ Bend thy head, Sigambrian ! 
Adore what thou hast burned ! burn what thou hast 
adored ! ” 

Alas ! Are we not all doing this — going clean contrary 
to our ancient belief, defying to-day the rules to which we 
bowed yesterday, adoring what we scorned, and scorning 
what we adored ? 

Well, let the reader be content. The author has gone 
through his baptism — his literary baptism — and he does 
not conclude all his tales by the inexorable rule of the 
nursery. 

Jael walked along the railway bank towards her home ; 
the fog was thick, it drove up the river like steam, but it 
was cold and it smelt ill, for it bore with it the exhalation 
of decaying weed and shell-fish in the ooze. 

Jael did not, however, feel the cold any more than the 
engine which rushes along the rails, for, like the locomotive. 


294 


THE STORY OF JAEL, 


she had a fire within her. She had not by word or sign 
allowed Jeremiah and Julia to discover who had been their 
disregarded companion in the van. She had heard all, and 
her heart was in flames, and the smoke of the fire within 
and the heat and sparks mounted to her brain, and set that 
on fire also. 

If she had hated Jeremiah before, she hated him with a 
tenfold — nay, a hundredfold hatred now. She hated Julia 
also, but in a less degree ; she despised her too deeply to 
hate her with strength ; but for Jeremiah she entertained 
no other feeling than intense, implacable hate, a rage at her 
weakness in being unable to punish him as he deserved. 

As she walked on her feet went fast, because her pulses 
galloped, and she would have run, keeping time with her 
feet to the throb of her heart, had she been on other ground 
than the iron path of the engine. She thought of nothing 
but Jeremiah. She forgot about her father, Mrs. Bagg, her 
own self. Oh, if but the means were in her hands to 
revenge herself on Jeremiah. Oh ! that when he struck 
her she had stabbed him ! She would have danced up the 
scaffold steps, and clapped her hands and sung as the fatal 
noose was adjusted. 

All at once she stood still and knelt down, and through 
the cold fog raised her eyes and hands to heaven, and 
prayed as she had never prayed before, that she might be 
given the opportunity and the strength to mete out to 
Jeremiah the measure he deserved. 

As she prayed she saw flames flickering in a field by the 
side of the railway, a little way up the land side. She knew 
what occasioned them. There was a seed farm there, and 
the old flowers, sticks, and stems and leaves were being 
consumed. 

She rose from her knees and walked on, with the same 
throbbing pulse, the same fire in her heart, and came to the 
cottage of her father, and saw a light shining through the 
window, dully, because a curtain was drawn down between 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 295 

the glass and the lamp, She put her hand on the door and 
tried it. It was locked. Then she knocked. 

A voice from within asked who was there. 

Jael did not answeV. Now she began to tremble. 

She stood on the doorstep, with a hand on each shoulder, 
clasping her shawl, pressing her arms over her bosom, 
restraining it, lest it should burst with emotion. 

“ Who is there? Can’t you answer?” asked the voice 
again. 

Then the lock was turned, and the door was cautiously 
unclosed. Jael put forth her right hand and thrust it back, 
but took no step forward. 

“ Mrs. Bagg ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ Ah ! It is you, is it ? ” asked the widow. “ Bagging 
me, indeed ? — when I am Mrs. Tapp, lawfully banned and 
wedded at Brightlingsea Church. Did you mean to insult 
me by it ? It is you, is it ? What has brought you here ? ” 

“ Where is my father ? ” 

“ Mr. Tapp ? Now don’t you take a step in here ” 

“ I am not doing so. Where is my father ? ” 

“ Mr. Tapp has gone into Colchester. There is an 
exhibition or a concert of live niggers, and he grew that 
desperate, there was no constraining him. He have took 
with 'him a bit of a sponge, and he’ll make his way out of 
the hindermost seats for’ards, up to tlie platform, and try 
his wet sponge on those niggers. He will — he’d never be 
quiet till he knew the rights about them ; ‘ for/ said he, 

‘ we must know whether reason is given to man to be his 
guide, or the contrary.’ As for the bridge,” continued the 
new Mrs. Tapp, “ with this sea-fog there’ll be no ships 
wanting to come up the creek; and even if they wanted, 
they must wait. Shamgar might never have such another 
chance to sponge a nigger. Now, you stay where you are. 
I’m mistress of the house, not you — and afore ever I let 
you in ” 


296 


THE STORY OF JAEH 


“ I will not come in,” said Jael peremptorily. I will 
not pass through the door till I have seen my father.” 

“Then,” said Mrs. Tapp, “you may wait outside till 
he comes home from sponging them niggers.” 

She slammed the door upon her and locked it. 

Jael turned away. Every particle of gentl.eness and love 
in her was gone ; in her heart boiled only rage and bitter- 
ness. She was shut out from her home and was cast adrift, 
with nowhere to go. When her father came home, would 
he be more pitiful than the woman who now ruled in his 
house ? Would he be able to withstand her will, alter her 
decision ? 

Then Jael laughed and said, “ I am to be homeless. I 
will go and see the home Jeremiah has prepared for his 
Julia;” and she -walked across the bridge. She walked 
slowly now, with her head down, and her arms folded on 
her breast. Her dark eyes, hard as polished stones, looked 
before her at the rails, and marked each sleeper through 
the fog, as she came to it, on which she was to plant her 
foot. She heard the tide rushing in through the channel 
below, swirling about the posts. It was cold in the fog — 
colder below in the water, she thought. Then she turned 
and looked back, and saw still the flicker of the flower-stalk 
bonfire, magnified in the mist to an immense conflagration. 
She walked on, and no longer turned or halted till she came 
to the outskirts of Brightlingsea, then crossed a field, and 
stood before the house. There was a bright light within, a 
lamp on the table, a fire burning in the grate ; the window 
was uncurtained, the house door was ajar. No one was 
within, Mrs. Mustard, Jeremiah’s mother, had gone into 
the town to buy some groceries necessary for the supper 
and the reception of her daughter-in-law, Jael stood at 
the door looking in. How cosy the house was ! How 
pleasant would be Julia’s reception. 

Jael thrust the door a little further open, and as she stood 
hesitating at it, looked back along the line to the glare of the 


THE STORY OF yAEL. 


297 

fire of flower-stalks. How that fire throbbed and swelled 
and then contracted. Then her heart leaped and swelled, 
and then grew tight and still. How if she were to set fire 
to that little wooden house, and so — Jeremiah would bring 
his wife, the woman who had supplanted her, to glowing, 
smoking embers ! She snapped her teeth at the thought, 
and went in. 

There were muslin curtains to the window. There was 
a table-cloth laid ready for supper. She tore down the cur- 
tains and plucked off the cloth, and looked about for other 
things that might burn. 

Then she saw a cat by the fire with its kittens, little things 
— there were three of them — that were old enough to see, 
and were playing over their mother’s back, and the cat 
patted them and threw them down, and they leaped on 
her back again, and she purred and rolled over, and pawed 
at them. 

“ If I burn the house,” said Jael, “ I will not burn thena,’> 
and she went to the little family to remove it. 

But instantly the kittens started from her, and ran and 
hid themselves beneath an oak chest against thd wall, and 
the mother ran after them and dived also beneath it. In 
vain did Jael try to allure them forth, then to drive them 
out. The kittens would not allow themselves to be cajoled 
or scared away. As soon as Jael left the box she saw their 
comical little heads and bright eyes peering out at her from 
beneath it. Then she stamped angrily and turned away. 

I cannot,” she said, “ I cannot burn the cat and her 
kittens.” And she left the house. 

She walked hastily back, angry with the kittens, angry 
with herself, till she came to the bridge, and then stood 
and listened to the gurgling water sweeping in. The night 
had become much darker. The fire of stalks had gone 
down as suddenly as it had flashed up. The fog rolled 
about her cold and deathly. 


298 ' THE STORY OF JAEL, 

Then she heard the Brightlingsea church clock strike 
ten. 

Ten ! At ten o’clock Jeremiah would start with the 
train of empty trucks, he driving the engine, with Julia at 
his side. 

She stepped on, putting forth her hand and touched the 
crank that opened the bridge. Then instantly all the sky, 
all the earth, the rushing tide, were alight about her, in a 
blaze such as that she had seen on the night when she stood 
under the bridge, but this light was red — red as blood. 
There was no lightning in the sky that thus illumined all 
things ; the lightning was within ; it was caused by the rush 
of blood to her brain ; and that rush was occasioned by 
the thought that now — now at last, her opportunity was 
come. God had answered the prayer she had made kneel- 
ing on the rails. 

Instantly she threw herself on the crank and worked it, 
and felt that the bridge was opening. She worked with all 
her strength, with feverish haste. Hark ! A snap I It 
mattered not ; a cog had given way. A little more, a few 
more turns, and now she let go. The bridge was in half, 
and the train that came on would leap headlong into the 
cold, inrushing tide below, and sink into the deep ooze 
beneath it. 

Then she leaned back against the bridge rail, in her old 
attitude, with her hands behind her back, and her feet 
planted on a sleeper, and waited. She would see the end. 
She would see her revenge accomplished, her prayer fulfilled 
to its Amen. She snorted with excitement. The bonnet 
compressed her head, and her head was swelling. She put 
up her hand and tore it off ; she had become heated by her 
exertions at the crank ; the fog, the sea air that puffed it 
inland, was grateful to her hot face, was pleasant to inhale 
into lungs that were on fire. 

Ha, ha ! that should be the nome to which the happy 
pair would go— that cold, slimy bottom of Gull-Fleet. Here 


THE STORY OF JAEL. 


299 

it was that Jeremiah had spoken to her, and persuaded her 
to go away with him, and here she would send him before 
the Judge who would condemn him for his treachery. 

Hark ! She heard a whistle, mufified by the fog, but 
audible from the direction of Wyvenhoe. It was the whistle 
of the train of empty trucks. Jeremiah had started, and 
every moment brought him nearer destruction. The whistle 
continued. 

I know why that is,” she said, “ Because of the fog, 
and to give warning about the bridge.” 

She listened, and the whistle shrilled louder, in fits, palpi- 
tations, screams, and it shook her nerves. 

All at once — how she knew not — the horror of what 
she was meditating came over her — of the crime. It was 
the whistle — the shrieking, appealing whistle — that caused 
the revulsion, but the revulsion was instantaneous. The 
passion for revenge went out, as had that fire of dry 
turf and stalks, and in its place urged up a sea of terror, 
self-reproach, agony, and pity: She threw herself on the 
crank, and strove to bring the bridge back into its place, 
but failed. A cog had been broken, and the crank would 
no longer work. 

She beat her head. What could she do ? Still that 
piercing scream, waxing louder. Not a moment was to be 
lost. She ran towards the cottage, and struck at the door. 
‘‘ Open ! ” she shrieked, “ for God’s sake ! The red light ! 
the red lamp ! ” 

But Mrs. Tapp, her stepmother, did not understand what 
she said. She knew the voice, and muttered, “ She’ll bust 
in with violence, will she ? She’s going to be mistress in 
this house, is she ? We’ll see which is strongest. And if 
the bolts and hinges give way, over my body must she go.” 
Then she took her chair, and set it against the door, and 
planted herself therein with her back to the door, and her 
arms folded, and a pleasant smile on her face, murmuring. 


300 THE STORY OF JAEL. 

Will she ! Let her try it on. We’ll see which is mistress 
here ! ” 

And Jael, almost flat against the door, beat and cried^ 
“ The red light ! the red lamp ! ” and looked up the line. 

She saw the red light through the fog. It was coming 
on. Not the red lamp she asked for, but that set in front 
of the engine. It was coming on quickly, in a very little 
span it would be extinguished, and two other lights — the 
lights of life — would go out with it. Then Jael left the 
door at which she had vainly battered and cried, and leaped 
on to the line, and ran forward towards the coming eye of 
ruby fire, towards that screaming monster — by no other 
means could it be arrested, by no other means those lives 
be saved. 

^ 

“Jerry,” said Julia, standing beside her husband on the 
engine, “ I suppose it is all right with the bridge ? ” 

“ Of course, it is,” answered he. “ How could it be other- 
wise ? No mortal ship would venture up in such a fog as 
this, and without a ship is passing, the bridge is never 
opened. In a few minutes we shall be home — Then — 
Halloo ! we’ve run over something. Drat it ! I must 
reverse the engine. I do hope the Irish stew won’t be 
overdone.” 

* * ♦ Jji if: * ^ 

An hour later Mr. Tapp came home on foot. He was 
heated itnd excited. 

As he entered his cottage, “ There ! ” shouted he to his 
wife, “ I said as much. Look at the sponge. I made up 
to ’em, and quite unexpected wiped the face of him with 
the banjo. And it came off. I have it here on the sponge. 
I brought it away with me. Burnt cork, or lamp smut. 
The human reason is given to be his guide — ” 


THE STORY OF yAEL. 


r?oi 


“ Hush ! ” said Mrs. Tapp. She was white and trembling:. 

“ What are you a-hushing of me for ? You forget I ain’t 
a baby.” 

“ Hush ! ’ said Mrs. Tapp. She held the table ; she was 
nearly fainting. Upstairs. In her room. Run over by 
the engine.” 

“ What— who ? ” 

Jael.” 


THE END, 


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LOVELL’S INTERNATIONAL SERIES. 


157. 1fn tbe Ibeart of tbe Storm - By Maxwell Gray 

This new novel by the author of “ The Silence of Dean Mait- 
land,” has been received with much favor in England. The Speaker 
says of it:, “The nobility, the seriousness of purpose, the keen 
sense of humor, the boldness and brilliance in description, will be 
familiar to the readers of ' her previous work. It stands far, very 
far above our average fiction.” 


158. Hit XOVC - By Maarten Maartens 

The author of “ The Sin of Joost Avelingh,” has made a 
remarkable impression upon the reading public in England. The 
Academy declares him “ a man, who, in addition to mere talent, has 
a vein of genuine genius ” 


159. ZTbcrc l0 IFlO 5)catb • By Florence Marryat 

This singularly interesting book contains an account of Miss 
Marryat’s own experiences in the pursuit of Spiritualism. The 
author has a complete faith in the Occult Sciences, and the convic- 
tion with which she tells her adventures is almost sufficient to per- 
suade the sceptic to her belief. 

1 60. Zhc Soul of Countegg Bbdan 

By Mrs. Campbell Praed 

A powerful story of animal magnetism, bringing the influence 
of the Occult Sciences into the heart of London society. 

161. 3For tbe defence - - by b. l. farjeon 

Mr. Farjeon, the later-day Dickens, as he has been called, con- 
tinues producing, with 'prolific rapidity, stories full of variety and 
brilliance in their characterization, and no less full of rough vigor 
in their development. “For the Defence” will be found quite 
representative of his work at its best. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY#, PUBLISHERS, N. Y. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S LIST. 


New Novels Now Ready. 


ONE LOVE, ONE LIFE. By M. E. Braddon. 

The latest work by the prolific and talented author of “ Lady 
Audley's Secret,” “ Vixen,” “ Mohawks,” etc. 

TIES— HUMAN AND DIVINE. By B. L. Farjeon. 

Mr. Farjeon has been compared to Charles Dickens, and his new 
work has all his keen appreciation of character and literary finish. 

MINE OWN PEOPLE. By Rudyard Kipling. 

With a specially written introduction by Henry James. 

A collection of short stories published in England under the title 
“ Life’s Handicap : being Stories of Mine Own People.” This 
authorized edition, besides a critical estimate by Henry James, 
contains a portrait of Mr. Kipling. 

THOSE WESTERTON GIRLS. By Florence Warden. 

A new story by the author of “ The House on the Marsh.” 

MISS WENTWORTH’S IDEA. By W. E. Norris. 

The last work by the author of “ Matrimony.” 

IN THE HEART OF THE STORM. By Maxwell 
Gray. 

A new novel by the author of “ The Silence of Dean Maitland.” 

“ Far, very far above the average fiction.” — Speaker. 

SUNNY STORIES AND SOME SHADY ONES. By 

James Payn. 

A collection of brightly-told, animated short stories, just published 
by this popular author. 



JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, N. Y. 









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